


Wizards and Demons Don't Mix

by Kefalion



Series: All About Harry [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Demon Harry, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Humor, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 34,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kefalion/pseuds/Kefalion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this story Harry is a Powerful Demon. He became one after many years in Hell, where he ended up after dragging Voldemort there as he was unable to kill the Dark Lord. The thing is that Wizards normally don't become demons and the question is what Harry really has become, if it can be undone and if he wants that to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Devil's Gate in Wyoming is opened and the Winchesters meet a strange demon

It was pure chaos. Things were had been going down so fast that it was hard to understand it all. Sam abducted by the demon. The Road House burnt down. Dean getting to his brother only for Sam to die in his arms. Dean making a deal to bring him back. Them trying to track down the demon and finding the giant Devil's Trap made by Samuel Colt.

And here they were. Jake - one of the children chosen by Yellow Eyes - lay dead on the ground and the Devil's Gate that Samuel Colt had locked was wide open, tormented souls and demons pouring out in a thick, seemingly never-ending stream.

With an unnatural wind flowing around them and thunder rolling in the dark clouds above the four hunters got up from their positions in cover and hurried to the Gate, knowing that they had to close it as soon as possible. But Dean was thinking. He had the Colt, having taken it from Jake and it could only have ended up there because the Yellow-Eyed demon gave it to him and just as he was cocking the gun, the demon in question showed up.

"A boy shouldn't play with daddy's guns," he said with a crooked smile and with a simple look he sent Dean flying through the air. He hit his head on the edge of a tombstone as he fell back to the ground. He groaned in pain, feeling the blood trickle down the side of his face.

At the same time Sam, Ellen and Bobby were pushing at the doors, trying to close the gate, but it went slow. Too slow. More and more demons in their true forms were flowing past. And when Sam saw what was going on with Dean, his priorities changed. He moved to help his brother, leaving Ellen alone to struggle with her part of the gate, losing momentum as the power was divided by more than half.

Yellow-Eyes saw him and with a small hand gesture he had Sam pinned against a tree, unable to move. "I'll get to you in a minute, champ," he called, enjoying himself immensely. "Well, I'm proud of you, knew you had it in ya."

Bobby and Ellen were half following what was going on behind them, but knew that they had to focus on their task. "Come on," Bobby muttered, trying to push harder. He groaned as he used every bit of strength he had.

"Bobby..!" Ellen gasped and they both made huge eyes as something corporeal walked past them. It looked to be a young man; tall, dark and handsome with a black cloak billowing out behind him. He smiled at them, his eyes flashing green, showing them that he was a demon, though not one of a classification Bobby nor Ellen had ever seen before.

"Just a moment longer," he said calmly, giving them a deceptively kind smile, "then I'll close it for you."

Bobby shared another look with Ellen, and they kept pushing, ignoring the demon for now, they had their task to focus on.

"Azazel!" the Green-Eyed demon called.

The Yellow-Eyed man, apparently known as Azazel, looked away from Dean. "Harry," he said, "what a pleasant surprise." He didn't sound all that pleased however, if Dean was to be any judge he'd say that the demon was scared and if that wasn't a refreshing look for him, Dean was a pixie. "I didn't think I'd see you here."

"Well, I heard about the plan to open the Gate," Harry said as calmly as if they were only discussing the weather over a cup of coffee. "And I heard about it just as I'd just made a friend and so I decided to stick around long enough to help him on his way."

"What? A friend? You're mocking me."

The dark-haired male smirked. "Why, yes I am, how good of you to notice. Wasn't it what you said to a young Tom Riddle?" Here he changed his voice, sounding eerily like the voice of Yellow-Eye's possessed body. " _You're special Tom, and it's not right that you should be alone and scared. I can help you. I can make you powerful. I can be your friend. You just have to do a little something for me first._ "

"You found out about that, huh?"

The new demon hummed, walking a bit closer. "Yes. It's amazing how easy it is to get information when you're me. You know what I was and a bit about what I've become. I'm sure and you are right to fear me, especially since I killed Tom, permanently, before coming here and now I know who to really blame."

"Harry, son, don't be like that..."

"Oh, I've only begun. And you don't get to call me son. But I digress. You see this friend I was talking about; he's a mutual acquaintance and he's just been dying to see you. Ah, here he comes."

The new demon, Harry, made a minuscule gesture with his hand, and the Gate slammed shut as if pushed by a strong gush of wind, leaving Bobby and Ellen slumped by it as they were taken aback by the sudden change.

"Who?" Azazel asked.

The other demon just raised an eyebrow.

The four hunters gaped as the shape of John Winchester walked up behind the Yellow-Eyed demon and drew him out of his body, struggling with the black cloud that was the demon's true shape. The green-eyed-demon looked on calmly, a small smirk turning up the corner of his mouth.

"Nice one John," he said conversationally, "too bad you can't be the one to kill him, but at least the honour will go to one of your boys, and you get to see it happen, should help you be at rest and all that jazz."

Dean was getting up from the ground, able to move now that Yellow-Eyes was otherwise occupied and he made the Colt ready, seeing as the demon was breaking free of John.

"Sorry, Dean, not yet," Harry said and Dean found again that he couldn't move, making him want to scream with frustration and having to settle with a mental exclamation.

Azazel broke free and John's spectral form lay on the ground, tired from the spat. The Dark Cloud flew back into the host body and yellow eyes blinked open.

"Harry," he said, pushing himself up on his elbows, "we can talk about this. You shouldn't let them kill me."

"Hmm. I'll think about it." He turned his head. "Ah-ah, Sam. No interruptions, the adults are talking," he scolded gently, in a disturbing parody of a disapproving parent. Sam had been moving, walking to get to his brother and now he was frozen, unable to do more than blink.

"So, Azazel, you've done your job rather well."

"What do you know about it?"

"I thought I already told you. When you're me the rules don't apply and frankly everyone's been very eager to try and please me, giving me any information I could possible want. So I know about everything there is to know about the  _plan_  and I can't say that I am a huge fan, so I think I'll stop it."

"You can't do that!"

"I can and I will."

Azazel laughed. "Just as you stopped Tom Riddle?"

"Haven't you been listening?" the Green-Eyed demon was growling now, his friendly demeanour gone. "I killed him. Really killed him. He has been  _obliterated_. He wasn't the first demon I tried my new power on I might add and unlike when I dragged him to Hell I have nothing to lose this time as you've so graciously already torn my humanity from me,  _father dearest_."

"Harry, Harry, you're too young, you don't understand yet."

"I will have to disagree with you on that. I'm plenty old enough. I lived through Hell for an uncountable number of years without losing myself and it's been many more years since then. Long enough I'd say to learn what I need to form an opinion and I have no wish for Earth to become a second Hell. I'm different, you know that, and I have hope that I might regain what you took from me."

The Yellow-Eyed demon laughed outright now. "Do you truly think that? Do you think you can change what you've become?"

"It's our choices that determine who we are."

"You are quoting that old fool Dumbledore? How you amuse me."

Harry sneered. "I might not end up wanting my humanity back, but I do want the choice, which means that Earth shall stay its own brand of Hell." He took a few steps towards Azazel, standing over him. "Nothing like me has ever existed before, not in the many thousand years this world has existed."

"Tom-"

"Tom was only a shadow, a small quivering shard of soul. You cannot compare us." He mock-sighed. "I find myself growing weary of you. I've thought enough and the answer is no. I would kill you myself, it's nothing less than I want to, and nothing less than you deserve, but I promised that the right to end your existence belonged to the Winchester family."

Yellow-Eyes sneered. "What makes you think they won't kill you too?"

"For one, they've only got one bullet left, and I'd stake the world on that it has your name on it. Good bye, Azazel. Dean, go ahead."

Dean blinked and noticed that he could move again. He looked at Sam and his dad who had gotten up while the two demons conversed. The man gave him a minuscule nod, it was all he needed. He nodded back and lined up the gun, pulling the trigger. The bullet flew true, entering the demon responsible for destroying their family, right in the heart of the host's body. Orange flames lit up the body from within, spasms shaking the arms and legs, lightning and smoke erupting from the flesh, before the body became limp, the yellow over the eyes fading away, leaving dull, dead blue irises behind.

"Well, that was fun," the remaining demon said, his green eyes dulling until they looked normal, though the irises were still a bright green colour. "So shall we talk peacefully or do I need to keep you all immobilized?"

"If I had another bullet," Dean muttered, glaring hard.

Harry smirked. "Like father, like son I see. I understand why you're proud, John."

John moved so that he was standing next to the demon, giving him a look.

"Indeed. We'll you're right. I'll let you have a moment alone then. No, John, you can't hang around to make sure I won't hurt them, you have to crossover or you'll get stuck and someone will have to kill you. You'll just have to trust me. Yeah, yeah."

As the hunters looked on John seemed to have a silent conversation with the demon, or well, silent on his side.

"Good. I'll see you around then."

John shook his head.

"Ah, do give me some credit! I might make my way there yet."

John shook his head again, but he was smiling.

"Fine, fine! I'll go stand over there by the Gate. Colt really was a fine craftsman and having a look can't hurt, might need to build one or two of these myself. Good luck, John and thank you." They shared a nod and the demon moved away, Bobby and Ellen watching him warily as he moved in between them, humming under his breath as he peered at the lock on the gate, ignoring them completely.

Dean was a bit torn, feeling uncomfortable with the unknown demon there, but with the shape of his father standing before them he couldn't act on the unease, feeling that he needed to take this time to say goodbye one last time whether it was actually his dad or not.

He looked at John who gave him a tear filled smile, walking up to him and placing his hand on his shoulder. The touch was solid and warm, comfort filling him up, just as he could remember from when he was younger and his dad had been there for him in between hunts.

Sam, who was also free to move, joined them. John placed his other hand on Sam's shoulder giving him a smile too and a nod of confirmation.

The brothers couldn't hear him, but they could feel his words.  _I'm proud of you. Both of you._ John backed away from them, smiling gently. His shape began to glow white and after a few flickers it dissolved into pale smoke and he was gone.

"Was that really? Could- is it possible that he could have climbed out of Hell?" Sam asked, awe colouring his words.

"If anyone was stubborn enough to do it, it was him," Dean answered. "Now though, we have ourselves a new problem at hand."

"Oh, are you talking about me?" the new demon turned away from the gate and smiled at them, showing a bit too much teeth. "So, I know who you all are, so it'd only be polite to introduce myself. I do still have some manners after all, at least I think so. I'm Harry, formerly Harry Potter, but a demon called Potter isn't very classy, so I dropped it. I think it's more appropriate to just go with a name which means  _master of the home_ , or the one I am beginning to prefer; if you think of it as coming from Harold, which comes from Hareweald, which means  _leader of the army_. Much more fitting name for a demon than Potter, don't you think?"

"I think you talk too much," Bobby muttered.

"Well, I've not had many people to talk to for about a thousand years, give or take a decade so I've got a lot of catching up to do. Let me tell you, demons don't make the best conversationalist, it's all rage and hate and pain with them. It was nice when John came along, though it didn't start out too well as I was assigned to torture him."

"You were what?" Dean spat.

"Relax, Dean-o, daddy's okay now and I didn't hurt him too bad. I ended up liking to talk to him too much for that, and I helped him get away so I think we're pretty much even." He sighed again. "And to think that while for me it's been an eternity, here it's only as been about eight years since I went to Hell, funny thing time. If I'd gotten to live in peace I'd actually be twenty-seven, married with a few kids most likely, I suppose it was not to be. Now then, do any of you have holy water, salt or iron at hand?"

"Why are you asking?" Sam said watching Harry closely.

"I'm curious just as to how much of a demon I truly am. So, do you have any? Or maybe some chalk, we could try out a Devil's Trap. I would allow you to try an exorcism too if I had the time, alas I don't fancy going down stairs again should it work, will just cost me unnecessary time."

"And how is that a bad thing for us?" Dean asked. The four hunters were closing in on the demon, who appeared to be just as relaxed and cheerful as he'd been ever since he walked out of the Gate.

"Well you see, at the moment our goals are aligned. You want to stop the apocalypse, I want to stop the apocalypse and I will do so by killing every single demon that escaped today. Now holy water, I want to know how bad it is. Mr. Singer, there's a bottle hiding in your belt, is there not?"

The older hunter looked at his three companions, and rather reluctantly he brought out a small silvery bottle.

"If it makes you feel better you can just throw it at me."

"What's that about the apocalypse?" Bobby asked, gripping the flask tightly.

"Ah, yes, you wouldn't know the whole thing, would you? And with me here you don't need to know really. Just exorcise or kill any demons you come across, with two exceptions. Me and a demon named Lilith who likes to possess young girls, 'kay? Now holy water."

"What's with not killing the two of you?" Ellen asked.

"Mrs. Harvelle," Harry said giving her a charming smile, though it only made her shudder with unease, "killing us would bring on the apocalypse. Killing Lilith will literally start the whole thing, killing me will not start it per se, but it will make it come faster as you would be removing an ally. Now enough chatter, I want to know how much of myself I managed to keep."

The four hunters stared at the demon. They didn't know what to think.

"Oh, for crying out loud! Shouldn't you jump at an opportunity to hurt a demon?" he said exasperated, making overly large hand-gestures.

"Fine, if you want pain, I'll oblige," Bobby muttered at last, uncorking the bottle and splashing water towards Harry. The liquid hit his face and began to sizzle upon contact with his skin, though not as much as it would usually do. The demon's breathing got a bit laboured. Dean and Sam shared worried looks, it didn't appear as if the demon was in horrible pain and they didn't know if it was bad or good. Bad felt more likely.

"So, how did I do?" he asked once it calmed down. "It itched rather badly, though I wouldn't say that it hurt."

"It's supposed to burn like acid," Bobby answered.

"So does that mean he isn't a complete demon?" Sam hazarded to ask.

"No, it just means something we already knew. He isn't a Black or Red- Eyes. He's higher up at the Tier. The eyes indicate how powerful they are. Black are the lowest, then we have red. Those are the normal ones. Yellow is unusual, I know there have been sightings of white eyed ones or ones with multicolour. Green I've never heard of."

"Okay, so what it means?" Dean grunted.

"That it's bad we don't have the Colt anymore."

"Damn," Harry muttered. "I'm hurt. I suppose I'll have to come up with something else then…"

"What is it that you want?" Dean asked sharply, stopping the rambling that was surely about to happen.

"What I want? I want to go back in time and think up another way to stop a war than to throw myself into Hell to drag the leader of the opposite side with me. Or maybe go back far enough to kill Azazel long before he started experimenting on innocent kids. That's not in my power though so I will settle for cleaning up the mess he left."

"Kids?" Sam asked, picking up on that.

"You know you weren't the first generation, dear Sam. The man who ruined my life was one of the first Azazel experimented on, and the only one of his kind. Poor Tom Riddle. I hate him, it's become my nature, and I would were I still fully human, but at the same time I feel something else. Perhaps it's pity. I can't really tell. Hate and self-preservation is about the only things a demon can feel well. That I can sense something more…" He shook his head and went back to smiling. "Anyway, little Tommy was an orphan boy in the late nineteen-twenties. All alone he was an easy prey for Azazel. He'd tried to use normal kids, and so far it hadn't worked. Wanting to break the limits he went after a wizard."

"Wizard?" Sam was the one to ask.

"Yes, wizard." He looked at Bobby and Ellen. "Don't the two of you know about it? I know the Winchesters are clueless, same as their dad, but surely you must know?"

"Harry Potter?" Ellen muttered, as if she just remembered something.

"Ah!" Harry smiled. "You have heard! To think that I would have hated that before, but it makes things so much easier. Do tell them all you know, madam. Go on!"

"Ellen?" Dean questioned.

"Is that your original body?" the woman asked of the demon.

"Oh, I like you," he said, "you've been paying attention! Yes, this is my body, haven't needed to snatch a new one so far."

"The scar?"

He smiled and pulled up his fringe. On his pale forehead a scar stood out, pale red and in the shape of a lightning bolt.

"So you are him."

"In the flesh, not as much the soul anymore."

"Ellen, tell us what's going on," Dean demanded.

"There are the witches you know, the ones who sells their souls, then there is a different kind, or so it's said. They are born with their powers. The males are called wizards, the female witches, and if you are to call their entire kind something, they would be wizards."

"Good, very good," the demon said encouragingly.

"The live in separate societies; rarely venturing beyond them. And... And demons stay away from them."

"Anything else to add?"

"From what I've heard, there was a war in England."

"Go on, madam, do go on."

"It ended back in '99 when the leader was killed by Harry Potter, who disappeared."

The three men looked from Ellen to the demon whose eyes were glowing green again.

"Not so much killed, not then anyway," he said shrugging nonchalantly. "Though perhaps going to hell can be called dead."

"You?" Dean asked sceptically. "You stopped a war by going to Hell?"

"Don't sound so surprised. You should know about being willing to do anything to keep the people you love safe," he said pointedly.

Dean clenched his jaw. It was an unpleasant reminder of what he'd done only a day earlier to keep Sam alive and he didn't like the idea that he might turn out like the man before him.

"Why do demons stay away from wizards?"

"Wizards are human, yet not. They are improved in a sense. I know only a little, it happened a very long time ago and since most of my sources don't get involved… You'd have to get hold of an angel to really understand this."

"Whoah,  _angel_?" Dean exclaimed.

"Buggersome creatures they are," Harry nodded. "Only met a handful, didn't much care for them, really stuck up and they can't think for themselves."

"Angels? Like God's messengers, with feathery wings, angels?"

"Oh, yes. Though I've not seen their true forms, it's supposed to be bad for you. Moving on now. Wizards were supposedly given their magical powers by God and this was after Lucifer had already gone bad."

"The Devil?" Sam asked.

"That would be the one, the fallen Morning Star. He tried to make me fall in line; I told him I wasn't interested, good thing for me that he was unable to step out of his prison."

"No, no, no," Dean interrupted. "You, you're telling us that God, angels and the damn Devil himself are real?"

"Yep," he popped on the p. "The Apocalypse, capital A, didn't tell you that? I feel sorry for you. No wait, I can't feel such emotions. Damn. So anyway; wizards. They got magic from God and since demons already existed so did the possibility of a human soul becoming one, and with the magic in these new souls that would be profoundly bad, therefore a sort of failsafe was instilled making it impossible for wizards to go to Hell. Instead a separate realm, a sort of purgatory, was created where sins would be cleansed away. Ergo no wizards have ever gone to Hell and a wizard has never become a demon. Until now."

"You?" Bobby asked.

"Me. If you hadn't figured it out yet, boys, I was a wizard. But there seem to have been more fail safes in place, I've been told that no one has taken longer to break than I did, and I'm not sure I did completely as I can still remember everything from my human life so well. Most don't, you know."

"Why are you even bothering with talking to us?" Sam asked now.

"John. I owe him rather a bit and talking to you giving you some information is how I'm planning on repaying him. So let's retrace. Kill any demon you come across, or send them back downstairs if that's all you can manage, unless it's me or Lilith. She's got white eyes so be careful, she won't be easy to deal with. I'll take care of the rest and if you need me use this." Harry took up something from a pocket and tossed it to Sam who caught it on instinct.

He closed his eyes tightly, expecting it to go boom. When nothing happened he looked down into his hands, seeing that he was holding a polished stick that was slightly scorched.

"That would be my wand. I don't need it anymore, but it's still connected to me so if you need me just hold that thing and think of me and I'll know. Oh and I'd actually suggest that if you happen upon a demon that you use that. I can kill them after all, it's nice knowing they won't be coming back, am I right? Was there anything else? Ah, yes." Harry walked up to Dean who flinched, dodging the hand that the demon stretched out. He sighed. "I'm just going to heal you."

"No thanks."

"Did I say it was optional? Didn't think so. Stand still or I'll make you."

"Make me."

Harry rolled his eyes. Next moment Dean felt his temple where he had hit his head starting to itch, it felt warm and then it stopped. He looked suspiciously at the demon

"No need to thank me," he said with a smirk. "Take that as a small proof of my good will." He looked to the sky. "I've tarried long enough, time to get going; I've got myself some demons to hunt, though…" he hummed quietly. "It can wait for a little bit. I really should head to England first. Any questions before I go?"

The hunters stared at the demon with the Glowing Green Eyes.

"No? Maybe you'll think up some later. I'm sure I'll see you around. Now if you don't mind I've got to find my Teddy-Bear." With those cheerful words the demon turned on his heel and so he was gone with just a small crack.

"What the Fucking Hell was that?" Dean asked, staring at the place where Harry disappeared.

"By far the strangest demon, ever," Sam muttered.

"And possibly the most dangerous," Ellen said. "At one point I think he was a good person, but I don't think we can trust him."

"Of course we can't," Bobby said gruffly. "It's a demon. You shouldn't use that wand, Sam."

"I wasn't planning to. So what now?"

"Now we get out of here. That Harry-demon was right about one thing," Bobby said. "We have a lot of demons to get rid of. And I have a few things I want to research."

"Yeah," Sam said in agreement. "How much of what he said do you reckon was true?"

"I don't know," Dean grumbled, "but the less, the better."

"On that we can agree." Sam looked at the body of the Yellow-Eyed demon. "I can't believe it's over. It seems that he ruined even more lives than we thought."

"The son of a bitch got what he deserved."

"I'm not saying anything against that. All this time and we never knew his name."

"Who cares about his name?" Dean frowned.

"Could have made it easier to track him. Azazel."

"Whatever."

"You'll look into it, Bobby?"

The older hunter pulled at his cap. "I'll look a bit, yeah, but I'm far more concerned about the apocalypse, the idea that angels would exist and this Lilith."

"I agree with Bobby," Ellen said. "We need to prepare for what is to come."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 18th September 2013:
> 
> I've been watching Supernatural. Perhaps you can tell how far I've gotten by reading this? I've watched up till episode 3 of Season 3 so far. I've spoiled myself by reading crossovers though so I know a bit about what will happen later, and then I can't help but read wiki pages so yeah.
> 
> I started on this story only a few days ago, so it's easy to say that the series are inspiring me.
> 
> I think evil Harry is interesting and I gave it a sort of try here. I've got a few ideas for how this will play out and I am bound to get inspired as I keep watching the show. Let me know what you thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry returns to England

It was early morning in Oxfordshire, England. The sun was about to rise, painting the sky in pale colours. It was the beginning of autumn and the leaves on the trees were beginning turn yellow, though it would still be some time before they started to fall.

As the first rays of the sun fell on an old two-story stone house with thatched roof a figure appeared in the garden. He was tall, dressed in black and had hair in the same colour. The only things standing out about him was his green eyes. They weren't normal. The green covered the pupil, the iris as well as the the white giving an ethereal look. The most unsettling thing however was the sense of malice that surrounded the figure like a second cloak.

"Any moment now," the man murmured and began to hum under his breath. "The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah!"

There was no movement inside the building. The windows were dark, the glass reflecting the sky. "The ants go marching two, by two, hurrah, hurrah!"

A few birds flew through the sky, chirping. "The ants go marching three, by three, the little one goes on a killing spree and they all go marching down to-"

The man stopped singing, suddenly finding himself surrounded by three people. "A very good morning to you all," he said, cheerily, green eyes glowing stronger. "Andromeda, Hermione, Ronald, it's lovely to know that you all still are so eager to meet me after all this time. Though I must confess that it was not you I came to see today, rather I'm here to see young Edward."

"Who are you?" the younger of the two women spat. She held a wand in a steady grip, pointed towards the man they had surrounded.

"Ah, I'm hurt! You really don't recognize me, and I who thought we were friends." He made a tutting noise with his tongue. "Ron, mate, tell your wife who I am."

"I don't know who you are, you filthy demon!" Ron snarled, sparks erupting from the tips of his wand.

"Now I'm really hurt and disappointed. Can't you put together two and two? A supreme tactician and the arguably smartest witch of her generation blindsided. What has the world come to? How about you Andy? Do you recognize me?"

The other woman had lowered her wand and was met with a toothy grin as she did so. "Harry," she whispered.

"Yes I am," the demon said, taking a low bow. When he straightened up again the green of his eyes had dulled to look normal.

"H-Harry?" Hermione stammered.

The sun had risen above the horizon now and as the black-clad man turned to her she could see his face and although she understood what he had become she still rushed to him and clasped her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Oh," Harry sounded surprised as she barrelled into him. "Now I'm even more disappointed. Was seeing my face truly all it took for you to let your guard down?"

"No," Ron said, and Harry looked to him, seeing that the redheaded man still had his wand directed at him. "I recognize you, but I get that things have changed, otherwise the wards wouldn't have reacted the way they did. You were my best friend once, but I don't know if you still are. Hermione, let go of him."

"Good, I'm glad. You're a credit to the Aurors I'm sure. Hermione, do as he says and let go of the big bad demon."

"No," she murmured into his chest, "I'm not letting go. You're back and you'll be fine, but for that to happen you need your friends."

"Maybe," Harry allowed, "but I don't know. We knew that I would turn out differently if I got stuck, yeah?"

"Yes."

"The thing is I don't know how different. I can restrain myself most of the time, but I've done horrible things too, you have to understand that. I've tortured, I've killed, and I enjoyed doing it. I can hold back, but I don't want to. Not really."

Ron walked forward and physically removed Hermione's arms, dragging her back. "No need to push him, love, you heard what he said."

"Fine," she said agreed reluctantly. "How long have you been back?"

"This time? About an hour."

"This time?" Hermione's brown eyes narrowed to slits.

"I didn't dare come around before. I needed to know that I wouldn't hurt you as soon as I saw you."

She began to smile now. "That's all the proof I need," she said happily, "if you were like  _them_  you wouldn't have cared about that. You would have come because you wanted to hurt us."

"Perhaps. Things are happening now though. You shouldn't be affected, but there will be an increase of demons on Earth. A Devil's Gate was opened."

"Where?" Ron asked urgently, his professional side talking.

"Wyoming, the United States. I'll be heading back soon, I need to put them down. That's something I can do now. Kill demons. I killed Tom not too long ago. Slowly, painfully… ah, happy memories." He shook his head. "Anyway I just wanted to see Teddy first, I think it will help me," he paused making a small sound at the back of his throat, "I think it  _might_  help me keep my priorities straight. At this moment I want to be better. It might not last. It has to be now."

"I don't know if I like that, Harry," Andromeda said.

"Just seeing him is enough. I don't need to wake him."

"I'm still not sure," the pure-blood witch said.

Harry sighed. "Just like the blasted Winchesters, though I suppose it's only healthy not to trust a demon. I won't hurt my godson. I just want to see him."

"Harry," Hermione began to say, "there are some things you should know. Ginny-"

"What about her?" Harry asked quickly. "I don't want to see her. It wouldn't be good for either of us."

"He's right about that," Ron said. "She's not over him, and they can't be together, not now. Not when things are like this."

"I- He still need to know. He has a right to know."

"I don't like this," Harry muttered. "I should have stayed away. I can't get involved with you. I'll leave. You'll probably never see me again."

"No!" Hermione screamed, yanking loose from Ron. She darted forward, grabbing Harry's arm. "I get that it's not easy, but, Harry, when you went to St Patrick's Purgatory with Voldemort… Ginny was devastated and she couldn't tell you because you had to do it and she was afraid what would happen if she told you, but Harry, she was pregnant."

The demon blinked. "No," he whispered, his face was a mask of blankness.

"Your son was born in June the next summer. She named him James, knowing that's what you would want. He's a great kid and he looks just like you, only with his mother's eyes."

"I- I have to go. I'm sorry." Harry removed Hermione's hand with unexpected gentleness and with a small crack he was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 19th September 2013:
> 
> A shorter chapter, but I figure that is how this story will work. The chapters will be as long as my inspiration demands.
> 
> The song Harry hums is The Ants Go Marching, set to the tune of When Johnny Comes Marching Home I only changed the lyrics a little bit, making them macabre and fitting for a demon.
> 
> St Patrick's Purgatory is a place where a gate to Hell is said to be, it's on an island in a lake in Ireland.
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry hides from his emotions

Hell is exactly what it's advertised to be; Hell. Fire and brimstone. The stench of sulphur and blood fills the air. Pain and never ending suffering is ubiquitous. No one likes it there; there is a reason why demons want out after all, a reason for it being a prison where the wicked are punished for their sins.

Harry shouldn't have returned. It went against all he had planned and all he was trying to stand for. He needed to think, needed to figure out what was going on and how he was meant to proceed. He should have gone to some isolated mountaintop, staying there until he dealt with what he'd just learnt. But he didn't want to.

The thing that had woken in him, the fucking sliver of feelings that burned warmly in his chest demanded attention, but it fucking hurt! The pain of emotions was excruciating. Raw, ripping, clawing, biting, burning, exceeding any physical pain imaginable. Regret, blame...  _love_. Brittle, bright, all encompassing love.

It shouldn't matter, none of it should. All of it had happened a lifetime ago to a different person. He was only deluding himself by playing nice. He was a demon, wasn't he? Then by the fiery pits of Hell he should damn well act like one.

He appeared next to a demon called Alastair, the only one said to enjoy Hell, who upon Harry's arrival grinned savagely. "Harry," he growled gleefully, "this is a treat!" He turned to the newly arrived demon, giving his current victim a brief respite.

Harry no longer looked like a handsome young man. He had wrapped his damaged soul around his body, protecting it, for though his body could heal any damage, as proved by the fact that it had survived a millennium in Hell, there was no point in having it get hurt.

His appearance was off putting, monstrous like all of his kin. He had burnt, red and skin, a torn chest where white bone poked through scorched, blackened tissue, madly glowing green eyes and veins glowing in the same colour. Why bother with hiding what he was when the bastards sent to Hell for their sins only got more afraid at seeing it? Making their punishment all that more potent?

"I didn't think I'd see you again so soon after coddling and stealing away with Winchester. I think I ought to be cross with you."

"Knife," was the only thing Harry said in reply, holding out a claw like hand, demanding to be handed the object.

"My, my," Alastair laughed. "Wasn't it enough to see Azazel die at the hands of the tiny ants he'd been playing around with?"

Harry lashed out at one of the humans destined for damnation and at his touch the soul burned to crisps, screaming in agony, before he was eradicated from existence.

"Give me the knife or you're next," Harry snarled.

Alastair handed over the blade he'd been working with without any hesitation. "Sure thing," he said excitedly, "watching you in action when you're in one of your moods, is nearly as good as getting to do it myself."

The man Alastair had been torturing appeared to be newly arrived, there were only a few minor tears in his golden tanned skin, and there was a look in his eyes that spoke of hope. That look would soon be extinguished.

Harry looked at the weapon in his hand and the metal started to glow a bright orange as it was heated to a high temperature. He placed the tip of the knife against the man's clavicle and began to carve, getting a scream of pain for his efforts. The skin shrivelled and some foul smelling black smoke emerged. By some sort of magic controlled by Harry the glow of the blade stayed in the wound, making it glow in turn.

"This one sold his soul for a few years of fame and fortune, idiotic bugger. With a little effort we should have him broken in time for the premier of his last film. Should make for a few laughs if he gets into a meat suit and attends the gala. Just need a couple of well placed scars to fit the part you played for real, isn't that right mister?"

The man whimpered.

"Do you think you can break him, Harry? Show me why I allowed you to keep old Johnny-boy safe?"

Harry hummed in reply, concentrating on the intricate pattern he was creating across the man's collar bones. Thin lines connected elaborate runes of an ancient dialect created by the first demon worshipers. All the while the man howled out strangled screams of torment.

As Harry concentrated on the task at hand the feelings he had begun to experience dulled, making him able to ignore them, much like he knew would happen when he decided to return to Hell.

All too soon the pattern was completed. The Green-Eyed demon watched his work clinically and deeming them good enough he handed the knife back to the demon at his side.

He leaned in close to his victim, whispering in his ear. "Do you know what the beauty of pain experienced when you no longer have a connection to your body is?"

He only got a weak whimper for answer coupled with heavy breathing.

"There is no escape to be had, you cannot fall unconscious, you cannot wake up as if this only was a bad dream, and you cannot even die, because you are already dead and in Hell." He drew back and with an evil grin he placed his hands above the marks and started to pull, the skin of the man's chest, torso and stomach following. Harry was skinning him, inch by excruciating inch. After that he proceeded to cut the tender flesh that had been revealed.

For days he worked on the soul, tearing him apart only to put him back together into perfect condition. Alastair worked by his side, seemingly on a high from getting to torture a wretched soul of his own and seeing Harry doing the same right next to him.

Each day they would offer the souls the choice to switch places, whisper sweetly in their ears that if they were willing to torture someone else they would escape the pain. It was all lies as the pain would only grow by giving in, though it wouldn't appear so at first as it was a different kind of pain, but it was damaging on a far more permanent level.

Once a month had passed Alastair spoke to Harry again.

"You found out about your son, didn't you?"

"What?" Harry snapped his head around to glower at his companion.

"If I'd known it would inspire you to do this I would have told you ages ago, maybe it would even have broken you faster."

"How?"

"You are practically dripping of angst, stinking of disgusting human emotions, but if we can wipe it away there are so much potential in you. I knew I was lenient on you for a reason." He laughed, cackling. "You do such a good job at tormenting yourself that you give me a run for my money. Though I have to give it to Azazel for figuring out what would make you accept our offers. Should have realized it sooner."

Harry gritted his teeth and used magic to burn away the flesh on the hand of the soul in front of him.

"You wish you could have Tom hanging from the racks again, don't you?" Alastair said, his voice as sweet as poison, drawing and lisping. "I told you that it was stupid to kill him."

"No," Harry growled.

"Yes! Give in to what you are! You'll like it. A conscious is such a bother, not that I remember having one, but I get the idea."

"I should kill you."

Alastair laughed. "You should. But you won't, you don't want to rid yourself of any options, not yet. You like the idea of what I can make you become."

Harry turned his knife on the other demon, the blade cutting through his rotting flesh, only succeeding in making him grin.

"Come on, Harry! Give it your best shot; let's see if you can make me scream!"

"Crucio," Harry hissed.

Alastair actually seemed a bit bothered by the spell, wheezing, and unable to speak. His body spasmed uncontrollably and as Harry narrowed his eyes putting more force behind the spell Hell's Master Torturer let out a guttural scream.

"I'm not going to turn into you," Harry snarled. "I won't." He let go of the spell and disappeared from Hell.

Alastair sat on the ground, letting out a darkly amused chuckle. "Ah, what wouldn't I give to be able to do that? A bit unrefined, but  _oh_ so effective." He got to his feet and caressed the cheek of the soul Harry had been torturing. "Now, my sweet," he said words dripping with sarcasm. "I think this break has been going on long enough, don't you? Or maybe this is the day you take this knife and change places. What do you say?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 20th September 2013:
> 
> Inspiration, you are a beautiful and terrible thing. Harry's not dealing. Nope. He's hiding from himself and that's not good news for the world. Demons are left running around on Earth and new ones are being created.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry thinks and beginns to act and the Winchesters try to get a grip on what's going on

The wind howled. There was snow in the air, patches of white lining the steep, stony mountain side, a huge glacier covering a large portion of the gray rock.

Harry had gone with his original plan and appeared on the top of a mountain, forcing himself to think now, although his every instinct went against it, wanting to avoid the pain and confusion. He had a son. Somewhere there was a young kid in his and Ginny's image.

James. Ginny was right in that was what he would have wanted. But that was back then, when he was still the Harry Potter wizard and savoir, not Harry the Green-Eyed demon who was steadily making a name for himself in Hell.

One of his first thoughts upon hearing that he had a son was to kill the boy and rid himself of the headache. He didn't know the lad. The larger part of him didn't want to get to know him. Having the child die would solve a lot of problems. It would allow him to embrace what he was becoming, making it permanent. It would be so easy. Life would stop being complicated.

Hate, pain and chaos, were ironically enough easy. Love, trust and compassion, those were the complicated things and they hurt far more than the alternative, even on a good day.

People would use James against him if he allowed it. People on both sides.

He shouldn't have gone to England. Hermione wouldn't let things rest and neither would Ron for that matter. He hoped they had sense enough to keep his visit to themselves.

Alastair knew. That meant that Azazel had known, which in turn meant that Meg would know and from there it was not a stretch to think that it might become common knowledge. If James died he wouldn't have to be bothered, he wouldn't have to care. He could go on like before, but if he did it one door would close. The door he had thought was closed, locked and buried under tons of stone until John Winchester had opened his mouth and begun to speak about his sons.

Harry hadn't been affected at first, simply going on with tearing the hunter apart again and again, but the man had stubbornly prattled on, defying the rumours of being a man of few words. The only thing managing to shut him up was to make it physically impossible for him to talk and that only lasted so long before Harry had him healed up and possessing a tongue and vocal chords again.

Over time though it appeared as if John's words affected Harry more than the torture he inflicted on the hunter affected John. His talk had brought Harry's memories to the surface and he had begun to experience things that had long been outside his grasp. The memories had remained with him all along and so had a few base emotions, but they had been unreachable to him until John began to speak with him.

Harry still didn't know why John had bothered talking with him. The man loathed demons with a vengeance and anyone would have thought that he would do anything to prove that, but as it turned out there was more to the Winchester than met the eye.

With Alastair always watching Harry had stopped being as cruel to his selected victim, and when he went away to do other things over the many years that passed in Hell the feelings and slivers of other emotions than wrath had remained with him, making him able to think in a different way, making him able to act like no other demon as everyone who still retained some of their humanity was closely looked after as they slowly, or quickly as it some times was, broke.

Harry had already broken and that meant that he was free to come and go as he wished, and already, prior to the inference of John Winchester ha had made a name for himself. He had more power than anyone had previously seen and it didn't hurt that Azazel who had been the one calling most of the shots had taken an interest in him.

His new ability to think allowed him to realize that ever since he'd broken and let loose he'd been acting in a way that wasn't like most demons. Sometimes he would be as uncaring as them, killing with glee and torturing without restraint and at other times it would look like he had a conscience, like how he hadn't gone back to England first chance, not wanting to take the risk that he would end up killing his old friends and family. He was different in more ways than he had previously known.

Harry paced across the glacier, his feet not leaving any traces in the newly fallen snow.

For now he would do nothing about James. He would go though with the plan. He'd make sure Lucifer wasn't freed. And he had an idea as to how he would accomplish it.

First he was going to take down two birds with one stone. He would rid himself of some of the anger that was clouding his judgement, because he could sense it within and it made it hard to think. The fury was bubbling inside him; ready to burst through his skin in a fit of rage. Having all that pent up anger was not conductive to his original plan, and if he had to behave like a demon to rid himself of it then he would, that didn't mean he would become like Alastair. This was for the good of all in the long run. The greater good, even knowing where the expression came from it had a nice ring to it, perhaps it came with having seen certain things, with age and detachment. The endurance of the collective put before the preserving of the individual was a sound strategy, especially when you knew that not everyone could leave the war unscarred.

People would die and the scum that was his kin would learn what he could do, that his powers were unlike anything they'd previously seen. With a little luck that would make them hesitate long enough that the equation would turn out to be profitable for humanity. If he was correct the more stupid demons would flock to him wanting to be led. Slaughtering them would be laughably easy.

What he was about to do might be considered harsh from a certain perspective, but Harry stood far away from that line that it was only a dim figure in the distance that he could barely make out, knowing that it was there, but not bothered by it.

He stood at the very peak of the mountain, hair whipping, cloak flowing and eyes glowing. He clenched his fist hard, his nails digging into the skin of his palms, knuckles whitening. A moment later the earth beneath his feet began to tremble, a great rumble sounding from far below. Harry grinned wickedly. "I wonder what they'll make of this…" he muttered and disappeared right as the earth cracked, a huge fissure tearing the mountain apart.

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

The Winchester boys had gone with Bobby back to his house in South Dakota, agreeing that they had to get back on their feet and tack stock of the situation. Ellen had left on the way, reassuring them that she would be able to take care of herself and that she had things to take care of now that the Roadhouse was gone and that she needed to make sure Jo was okay.

It was midday the day after the Devil's Gate had opened and Sam finally dragged himself out of bed. He felt awful. The last few days had been exhausting and it had all been topped off by him forcing Dean to confess that he had made a Deal. He had died and he didn't know what to feel about it, except empty and miserable.

As he got downstairs he found Bobby in the kitchen with several books open in front of him as well as an empty cup and a used plate next to him.

"Hey," he said, sitting down, the chair groaning under his weight.

"There's coffee," the other man said.

"Thanks, I'll take some in a bit," Sam dismissed, not all that interested in food at the moment. He'd eaten some while they were on the road last night to make up for the days he'd spent in Cold Oak and would be okay for a bit longer. "Have you fond something yet?"

"Not yet. There's no end to the lore about Angels and the Apocalypse, I've no idea what of it is authentic."

"How about wizards?"

"I hate to tall you, but I didn't know of them before, and if I've got any information on them it's buried somewhere in one of the piles. It'll take me days to look through it and I'm not sure if that should be our priority. Until that Harry fellow shows up again and gives us trouble I think we should forget about him and what he said."

"You think that's wise?"

"I don't mean that you forget him permanently, just that you shouldn't waste your energy on trying to figure him out. As far as I could tell he had a large mouth on him, if we're lucky he will be more bark than bite."

"I don't think we can trust that," Dean had arrived on the scene, looking like he had just dragged himself out of bed, which was probably the truth. His hair was a mess and his shirt was buttoned wrong.

He went over to the coffee machine, removed the nearly empty pot, looked around and picked a cup that stood on the sink, tough it showed signs of being used; he filled it and took a long drink of the hot liquid. Letting out a satisfied breath he continued. "I don't claim to be an expert on demons and how they think, but I could tell that Yellow-Eyes was afraid of him, and that's enough to make me say that we find a way to waste him."

"You have a point," Bobby agreed, "but until he shows up again there isn't much we can do. I'll make sure to keep an ear out and I'll let you know if anything turns up. For now we are playing the waiting game. We know that there are hundreds of demons out there, but we can't get rid of them until they do something to draw our attention."

"Oh, I hate the waiting game," Dean groaned.

"We'll just do what we always do," Sam said. "We look for a hunt, something will show up, whether it be demons or anything else."

"Well," Dean's expression changed, it went from petulant to anxious in a heart beat, "well, maybe lying low for a bit isn't such a bad idea."

Sam frowned, as did Bobby. "What's up with you?" Bobby asked.

"I know," Sam said, tone cold, "you're on about keeping me safe again."

"No..!" Dean instantly denied.

"Dean."

"Is that so wrong?"

"You've already done enough!"

"Yeah?"

"Yes!"

"Well, what the fuck should I have done?"

"You should have let things be what they were!"

"I should have let you die?"

"I was already dead!"

"Boys!" Bobby interrupted them, standing up. "You're not having that argument again, not while I'm here. Either you take it outside or you shut up and start doing some research." He sat down again with a muttered; "idjits."

The two Winchester brothers stared at each other for a few moments, before Dean looked away.

"Do you have a newspaper?" Sam asked.

"I've got eight, went out earlier. I've not looked through any of them yet, so go ahead and knock yourself out."

"I'll go see if there's anything on the TV," Dean grumbled and left the room.

"I can't believe him," Sam muttered and went for the stack of newspapers.

From the other room they could hear the TV turning on, though the sound was to low for them to hear what it was showing.

They sat in silence for some time, Bobby looking through the books, Sam searching the papers and from the sound of things Dean flipping through the channels.

"Son of a bitch!" They could hear Deans exclamation a few moments later, and the next second he was back in the kitchen. "I don't know if this has anything to do with the demons, but I'd bet the Impala on it."

"What?"

"Mount Rainier's having the eruption of a century right out of the blue and do you know what shapes I just happened to see in the smoke, illuminated by a lightning bolt? Three sixes."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam, Dean and Bobby learn a bit more about wizards and have a run in with the Seven Deathly Sins.

Over the following five days the volcanic eruption was the only strange thing to have taken any human lives, and they weren't even completely sure that the ongoing eruption had anything to do with the demons as they had been unable to find the sign Dean had seen again, even though they had screened the same news video online over and over again.

Whether the volcanic activity was the result of some messed up demon mojo or not, it was still bad. Like Mount St Helens bad. It had happened without any warning and the leading people on volcanology were stomped, saying that there had been no signs that Mount Rainier would erupt in the near future.

Thousands of people had already died, mainly from the flow of a lahar, a great flood of mud, water and derbies sweeping down from the volcano at startling speeds destroying everything in its path, nearly razing all of the city Tacoma to the ground before the evacuations started.

The same afternoon, ash had begun to fall from the sky in South Dakota, further showing the magnitude of the eruption.

If a demon had done that things were bound to go bad fast. Add to that the fact that nothing else had happened and they were beginning to feel a bit edgy. With an army of demons spread over the US continent there should be something going on. Well, something more. All they had managed to find so far was that there had been sightings of unnatural clouds over seventeen major cities.

They had chosen not to stay at Bobby's feeling restless at being cooped up, and wanting to feel like they were accomplishing something they'd taken to the road again, not that it had done them much good.

Sam had been using the time spent in the car to try and find a way out of Dean's deal, all the while keeping his research hidden from his brother. So far his efforts had proved fruitless. There didn't seem to be a way out of it and Dean was being an idiot about it, switching between pretending that nothing was wrong and living every day as if it was his last, milking Sam for sympathy, in a startling successful manner.

It was when they hit the one week mark that Bobby found something and they met up in Lincoln, Nebraska where something was going on and it wasn't long before they ran into seven very iconic demons; the Seven Deathly Sins.

They'd run into a couple of hunters who Bobby knew who was investigating the same thing. The couple had made it clear that they worked alone, though Sam, Dean and Bobby tried to convince them that they'd better stick together as they new that these demons would be on a whole different level than most of the ones they'd encountered before.

When they wouldn't listen they had ended up paying for it with the man named Isaac dying at the hands of Gluttony, being forced to gulp down drain cleaner, the alkaline solution burning away his insides right before their eyes.

They had managed to get away, but his wife Tamara was in bad shape, broken up over Isaac's death. They'd managed to get one of them, Envy and Tamara had exorcised him, now though they were stuck playing a more literal version of the waiting game, waiting for the other six to show up, which they were bond to do.

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

"Tamara, I've been meaning to ask you," Bobby began as they were sitting around trying not to let the tension get to them.

"Yes?" she said, though she sounded a bit unwilling, still showing signs of profound distress, though like any hunter she was doing her damndest to keep it hidden.

"I don't know if you're the right person to ask, but do you know anything about wizards and more specifically about a war that was going on in England about ten years back?"

The dark-skinned woman stiffened. "What's this about?"

"Do you know something?" this time it was Sam who spoke up, understanding where Bobby was going with this and not bothered that the older hunter was breaking his own recommendation of not trying to figure out the Green-Eyed demon.

"Yes, I do," she admitted. "I- It wasn't until after I and Isaac- not until after we got into hunting that I found out about it, but suddenly everything made sense. I had this friend, back when I lived in England; Julian. Strange things happened around him when we were young and later he went to a boarding school in Scotland, so I didn't see him as much, only during the summer, but we still remained rather close, exchanging letters weekly."

She took a deep breath before she continued. "Later when we were both grown up I met up with him again as I was visiting family. It was during the time when there were so many terrorist attacks both in Brittan and over all in Europe, if you remember?"

They nodded, prompting her to continue.

"He seemed terrified and I didn't get why but he told me to go back home and if I could I should convince my family to come with me."

"What did you do?" Bobby asked quietly.

"I didn't know what to think, it seemed crazy and I didn't get why he was so concerned, but I could see with my own eyes that things were bad and I followed his advice. About a month later I heard that he had died."

"Sorry," Sam whispered.

"It was a long time ago now," she murmured with a feeble smile. " _It_ doesn't bother me all that much anymore. Julian died in a strange way though. He was found in his flat, but no one could point out a cause of death. There was nothing wrong with him except that he was dead, the only thing that was remarkable about him was the look of pure terror on his face."

"Supernatural?"

"In a sense. If you know enough to ask about this then you must know that there was a war among the wizards. What else do you know?"

"Not much," Bobby confessed. "We learnt about their existence rather recently and we just want to know what were up against."

"I see," she nodded, accepting the reason. "Wizards usually don't care much about the rest of the world. They have their own problems, and creatures and they take care of themselves most of the time. They may have abilities beyond what we can conceive, but in the things that count they are just human, and for all that we fight the monsters, there are human monsters too. Humans can do rather terrible things to each other and this war was based out of prejudice and I suppose you could call it a kind of racism. The way my friend died was by a spell called the killing curse. It kills you instantly. You can torture with magic without leaving a mark and anything your average murderer can do, they can do ten times better, so I suppose the killing curse is rather humane considering what you could do."

"Damn," Bobby muttered, grimacing.

"What was the war about? You mentioned racism?" Sam asked, feeling slightly bad for making her talk about this when it clearly brought up bad memories, something she didn't need just after her husband's death.

"Yes," she nodded. "I didn't find out until later, of course, and I don't know all that much either. On one side there was a Dark Lord, a powerful wizard with no inhibitions. He killed and tortured, wanting absolute power and to purify the wizarding world and enslaving the rest of mankind. He and his followers were supremacists, thinking that only those with magic, born of parents with magic were worthy."

"So how did it stop?" Dean asked although he had a feeling as to where it was going.

"There was those who would oppose him, who thought for a free and just world, their champion was a boy, he did what no one had done before, he survived the killing curse and for a time the Dark Lord was gone, when he came back it was the same boy who fought him again and ultimately killed him, ending his reign of tyranny. The dark side fell apart with their leader gone."

"What was his name?" Sam had to ask. All three of them knew now, but they had to hear it.

"Harry Potter," Tamara answered. "The kid, only eighteen years old disappeared. He is the savoir of their world and if I am to guess his name will always be remembered right alongside Merlin."

"Wow," Dean breathed out. "Just wow."

"Yeah," Sam said in agreement. It was strange reconciling the image Tamara painted for them with the demon they'd met. It was rather tragic that a good person could be transformed into such an awful thing. It changed the way you viewed things, though on some level they'd always known that everyone has a breaking point, and to know that a person could become an actual demon was not as strange as it first appeared.

"Merlin?" Dean asked, breaking the moment and earning himself a glare from his brother.

"That's what you get from this? Should it surprise you that he was real?" Sam said pointedly.

Dean made a face, thinking, then as he went through all the weird shit he'd encountered through his life, adding the things he'd heard about recently which was beginning to feel more and more believable he concluded with a: "No, suppose not. Still…" he turned back to Tamara. "Gandalf ain't real though, right?"

Sam couldn't help but snort, the other two gave Dean unimpressed looks.

"What?" he said. "Come on! You can't blame a guy for questioning things. Who knows what will turn out to be real next?"

The candles that they had lit began to flicker, an icy draught flowing through the room.

"Here we go," Dean said dryly, "history class is over, time for the elective in pest control."

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

It was a good thing they had been so well prepared, because one of the demons had in an effort to enrage Tamara possessed Isaac and the plan had worked, and the woman had allowed the demons to come inside, only caring about stopping the desecration of her husband's body and sending the bastard responsible for it back to Hell.

They had split up, Sam somehow getting to deal with a larger number than the rest. He led three of them upstairs, backing away into a room, placing his faith in the Devil's Trap that was painted on the ceiling, that hadn't worked out too well though and after exchanging a few smart quips with the demon of Pride Sam found himself in a fight he was quickly losing and he didn't know what to feel when a familiar figure showed up in the door.

"What have we here?" Harry drawled, smiling at the people who were gathered in the room. "A nice little get-together and I weren't invited? I'm hurt." The Green-Eyed demon had changed his clothes since Sam last saw him, forsaking the strange looking black clothes and cloak for jeans, shirt and blazer.

"Why would we bother with you, brat?" Gluttony sneered.

"Who said I was talking to you?" Harry answered in an equally harsh tone. "Sammy, I thought I told you that I wanted to know when these things happen."

"Yeah?" Sam wheezed out, Pride's arm was pressing against his throat making it hard to breath.

"Mhmm," Harry hummed, and turned his attention back to the three deathly sins, apparently not having a problem with the position Sam was in. "So the seven of you have decided on a side, I take it?"

"We don't care about the war, we just want to be free to do our thing," Greed said sweetly, batting her eyelashes in Harry's direction.

"Sweetie," he said in just as false a friendly tone, "you're not Lust, she is currently occupied, trying to suck out Dean Winchester's tonsils, you should stick to playing to your strengths."

"What she says is true," Gluttony intoned. "We want nothing to do with the fighting. These idiots just so happened to come in our way, you can't blame us for self defence."

"I can, but you are right in that I won't. Anyway it's too bad that you don't want to be part of what's going on because there  _is_  a war coming and you will have to pick sides eventually whether you like it or not. Or if you prefer it I could save you the effort of doing so by killing you right here and now."

"You cannot kill us," Pride said smirking broadly, even as Sam struggled harder in his grip. "You might think that you are something, the natural disaster that you are. But you're just a child who think he can tell the rest of us what to do. We can feel your vices. You're so very prideful. You are becoming over confident and that will be your downfall. You are also holding so much wrath and envy. We are not affected by you.  _I'm_  not affected by you. I'm above you, wizard."

"Who's prideful now?"

"Guilty as charged," he grinned.

Quick as a lightning Harry moved and touched Greed. At his touch she lit up from within, the veins in her body glowing orange, she screamed as her body twitched as if it was electrocuted and a small puff of smoke came out of her mouth before her body slumped to the ground.

"Well then, now that we know I can kill you, maybe you will consider a proposal?"

"Do you care about the humans?" asked Gluttony with a sneer.

Harry looked at Sam who had gone limp in Pride's grip, giving up for the moment, knowing that he had to play this smart.

"Do I care? Not particularly," he answered easily. "I serve my own ends and as it happens the Winchesters are important to seeing them fulfilled and I may be a bastard, but so far I've kept my promises and keeping those two idiots alive for some time longer was part of a promise I made. Now I'm giving you an option, which I've given everyone I've confronted, though I suppose Greed drew a short stick. Either you do as I say or I kill you."

"I'm more for option number two." The one who had spoken was a blond woman who while Gluttony was distracted stuck a knife in him though the back of his neck, the tip of the blade sticking out though his mouth. He twitched, orange light lighting up his body, just as it had done when Harry killed Greed.

Harry merely raised a brow as she went on to stab Pride who had let Sam go to defend himself, he hit her back, but Sam tripped him from his position on the floor and she was quick to take advantage of that.

When Pride had collapsed the blond woman turned around, looking ready to have a go at Harry.

"Hmm," he said, summoning the dagger from her hand, turning it over in his own, scrutinizing the blade, and looking closely at the handle. "Nice dagger," he said and looked up, meeting the woman's gaze.

Something odd seemed to go down as he did so, Sam couldn't place his finger on what, but he could tell that there was more to it than a simple look. "Huh, okay," Harry said, blinking and breaking the connection. "Let's see." He closed his eyes, and a gush of sudden wind ruffled his hair. When he opened his eyes again they were glowing. "I suppose my job here is done," he muttered as his eyes dulled back to normal. "See you later Sam. Next time, please use the wand. Oh and give Dean my best." He disappeared with the same crack as last time, the dagger clattering to the ground.

The girl let out an irritated sound in the back of her throat. "Why are you still on the ground?" She asked tetchily, turning around to look at Sam.

He glowered in response, sidestepping her question and giving an inquiry of his own. "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm the girl who just saved your ass," she retorted. "Bye, Sam." She walked out of the room and before Sam could think to stop her she was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry talkes to Ruby

Dusk. A road running through a corn field, the plants rising tall; creating a wall on either side. On this road, not far from the house in which the Winchesters had faced the Seven Deathly sins. Harry appeared, just a foot away from a blond woman who was running at break neck speed. She ran straight into him as she noticed him too late to stop her sprint. Upon impact she was propelled backwards, falling to the ground.

"Hello," he said blandly, peering down at her, just a dark shadow against the sky. "I was kind enough to agree to not reveal you to Sam right then and there. We decided that we would talk alone right after. Yet here I find you trying to run away. That's not very nice. Either you are brave or very stupid, probably both."

"I like to think of it as having a strong self-preservation-instinct," the blond answered scathingly.

Harry raised a dark eyebrow, the effect going missed in the gloom. "Have you done something that would make me want to kill you?"

She glared, the light reflecting in her eyes changing.

"No, that's not it," he mused, tilting his head to the side. "Oh I get it. I should have smelt it on you right away, the taint is all but impossible to miss. It's all about what you are planning to do. Let me spell it out; you are taking your orders from Lilith."

"I don't answer to you."

"That's right, you don't. And judging by your attitude you aren't planning on changing your allegiances anytime soon."

"I can kill you."

"With the knife? Aren't you precious? Yes, the knife. What a nice artefact that is. Mind if I take another look?" He twitched the fingers of his right hand and the knife came flying from where it was hidden in her belt, cutting through the leather as it was summoned. "Thank you," he drawled, "and so sorry about the belt," he added, unapologetically. Looking at the knife again he murmured to himself. "Yes, this can most likely kill me. Interesting to know. Though we'd have to try to be sure and I'm not volunteering. Anyway, how did you come by it?"

"None of your business."

He shrugged. "Fine, I don't care that much either way. Have it back, it's not like I need it." He handed it back to her, hilt first. She hesitated for a short moment before gripping the handle tightly and pulling back.

"There, you have your weapon, but are you strong enough to use it on me?"

Her glare intensified, though she remained still.

"Not even going to try?" Harry taunted.

"All the better to stab you in the back when you least expect it."

"Charming. I've not met you before, so how about we do the only polite thing and introduce ourselves, like the humans we are both pretending to be? I'm Harry." To Harry's immense satisfaction a glimmer of fear passed through her eyes. "Wow, you didn't know who I was?"

"I had an idea. What you did back there was sort of a hint, I've not heard of anyone else who can kill another demon by mere touch."

"I see. So what is your name, o bitch of Lilith's?"

Curling her upper lip she answered. "Ruby."

"Now that wasn't so hard. What I would like to know is how much you know about me."

"You want to hear the gossip about yourself? Wow, that's more conceited than I would have given you credit for."

"It's how you play the game. You need to know what others know and you clearly know something."

"If you are planning on killing me, just go ahead," she sneered.

"I don't kill just for the kicks of it."

She gave him a bland look.

"I don't," he stressed. "If there is any reason to have you running around causing mischief for a while longer I like to know it, wasting resources is such a shameful thing to do. So bottom line is: your continued existence depends on what you say over the coming few minutes." Harry bent down to the ground and pulled Ruby up by her hair, she groaned a bit, but did not struggle. "Why did Lilith send you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

He chuckled humourlessly. "Yes I would, that's why I asked a question, you see that's the way you go about when you want information. Perhaps it was different when you were last on earth, I take it it's been some time."

"Just because you haven't stopped suckling at your mom's tits yet."

"Oh, you've got a smart mouth on you. Why don't you use it to tell me what I want to know?"

"Go to Hell."

"Maybe later, right now I'm enjoying or conversation too much," the smile he had been wearing twisted into something far uglier, "or I would if you would actually start talking," he growled using his free hand to squeeze her throat.

"Over my dead body," she hissed.

"That can be arranged."

"Go ahead then."

"This is beginning to get old, Ruby. Wouldn't you much rather complete the mission Lilith gave you? Tell. Me. What. It. Is." Harry's gaze was intense, his eyes bleeding green so that the colour covered the pupil and the whites. Ruby squirmed under the intensity of it, and suddenly she went limp.

"I'm to keep Sam and Dean alive," she said voice strangely void of emotions.

"Continue."

"I'm to help them, gain their trust so when the time is right I can convince them to do what needs to be done. They are both needed to break Lucifer out. I am to focus on Sam; it comes down to him in the end."

Harry looked away from her and let go of her hair, leaving Ruby to slump boneless to the ground. "What did you do to me?" she asked, drawing in air in rapid gulps.

"Just a taste of what I can do using a spell I learnt about when I was a wizard," he murmured, straightening up. "It's nice not having to think for yourself, is it not? All warm and fuzzy, almost like being human again, almost like having the eternity in hell erased from your memory. With little effort and the incantation  _Imperio_ I can make you kill yourself and sing the Russian national anthem as you do so and all you would feel is that warm comfort. Anyway, turns out it's your lucky day, sweet thing. As long as you do your best to keep Sam and Dean Winchester alive, you get to stay alive. Once that changes however…" Harry made the cliché gesture of drawing a finger across his throat. "You get the gist."

She looked up at him, eyes black and full of spite. "What is it that you want?"

"Everything you don't. We should have a conversation about that as well. Are you truly so stupid that you want  _him_ to walk free?"

"He'll reward those who serve him."

Harry laughed. "That answers my question; you are that stupid. He hates humans."

"I know."

"If that's so, then what makes you think he would like us?"

"He created us."

Harry snorted. "He created us to spite God, to show just how inferior, evil and corruptible humans are. We are the evidence of everything that's bad about humanity. After he wipes out the humans we're next."

"Shut up," Ruby growled, Harry ignored her.

"I can get why Lilith, Azazel and even Alastair would want Lucifer free. Lilith and Azazel were both created directly by him, they enjoy what they are and feel a sort of twisted gratitude and loyalty, wanting to obey and serve. Alastair is just too much of a sadist and masochist, he'll take what comes his way before the end, and he'll enjoy both."

"Shut up!" she shouted now.

"Then we have the rest; the mass of the spineless filth that has accumulated in hell over the millennia, they are just following the one they are most afraid off, currently Lilith. But you," he upped the volume as she chanted for him to shut up, "you think yourself above them. You think that you are something."

"I'm not afraid!" she yelled.

"You are afraid; you have enough of a brain to have the sense to feel fear. The difference is what drives you. You've been lied to. You've been promised things and the lie is too pretty for you to bother with looking through it. You are as pathetic as the ones who let their fear rule them."

"Shut up you son of a-"

With a small glare he silenced her. Ruby's mouth kept going, but no sound emerged past her lips.

"Don't you know it's rude to speak while someone else is speaking? Who am I kidding? You've already made it obvious that you have no manners."

Harry walked away a few paces, as if he was leaving. He listened carefully and heard Ruby get back on her feet. He turned back around, pointed his hand at her and calmly said; "Crucio."

With a short shriek Ruby's legs gave out and she was back on the ground, just as fast as that Harry let go of the curse.

"Just something to remember me by," he said pleasantly. "Can't have you forgetting, can't have you loose your fear, it might be what manages to keep you alive," he chuckled at some private joke. "I'll see you around, Ruby. As long as you hang around Sam and Dean we will run into each other. If you happen to see Lilith, tell her that it won't be long before I'm strong enough to meet her face to face and come out the winner." With a crack he was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Dean does a lot of talking and Dean gets to hear a few things about Harry

Seven Deathly Sins. Three killed, one host survived. Four exorcised, two hosts survived. All in all it had been a productive evening.

Sam had requested to speak with Dean alone. He didn't mind Bobby finding out, or Tamara for that matter, but he knew that it would just be easier to talk to Dean one on one about what had happened. They'd gone outside, having gotten fed up with being in that house after an afternoon of just waiting.

The evening air was nicely cool, crickets were chirping in the thicket around the house and stars were shining brightly in the sky. As always it felt weird that things could be so peaceful out in the world, when in reality awful creatures were just waiting to do horrible things to good people.

Either way Sam proceeded to tell the story, going over it with as many details as he could remember, and all the while Dean stayed unnaturally silent, making the younger of the pair a bit unnerved.

"So, that's what happened," he concluded.

"Say that again," Dean demanded, sounding suddenly very much like himself again and Sam cursed himself for being bothered by the silence, he should have known that it was too good to last.

He drew in a long breath, trying to gather patience, leaning back more heavily on the porch fence. "Harry showed up."

"Yeah," Dean made a gesture, urging him to go on.

"And a few moments later there was this girl."

"A girl with a knife that could kill demons?"

"That's what I've been telling you, Dean!"

"Who is she?"

"I don't know! As I told you, she was gone before I could get her to tell me."

"Well that's just great. We really need to find a way to make the Colt work again, the sooner we get rid of that demon the better," Dean ranted, adding pacing to make the image complete.

"Maybe."

"What do you mean, maybe? We kill demons."

"So far he's only helped us."

Dean stared. "You are kidding me. Say that you are kidding me."

"I'm serious. He didn't hurt us back at the Gate. In fact he healed you."

"Uhuh."

"And if he hadn't shown up when he did I…"

"You what? Would have allowed those other demons to get the drop on you? Don't you think that chick would have been able to help you without Harry interfering?"

Sam sighed. "I'm just saying that perhaps we shouldn't be so quick to judge. We have seen creatures that aren't one hundred percent bad. We allowed those vampires to go."

"That's different."

"I don't see how it is. We can't become like Gordon."

"We're nothing like him."

"You want to kill Harry because he is a demon."

"Yes. They are  _demons._ What part of that word don't you get?"

"Dean, shouldn't you question this? If what we've found out is true, then he was human. They were all human. That means something."

"The key word here is  _was_. It would mean that Yellow-Eyes was human once too."

Sam opened his mouth to talk back.

"Don't bring up the vampires again."

"I wasn't-"

"Yes, you were."

"So fine if I was, it's still a valid point. All vampires aren't bad, we've seen that. They can resist their nature. What's to say that the same can't be applied to a demon? We haven't seen it before, I know that, but there has to be a first for everything. That woman who was possessed by Greed, she survived, though he killed the demon riding her. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"So he saved one girl. That means nothing! He's manipulating us! He is messing with our heads, he tells us truth or lies or some messed up in between thing. Anything to herd us where he wants us. That's what they do!"

"Shouldn't we use that then? Shouldn't we try to find out more?"

"I don't like it, Sam. You want to play with fire, and when you do that you will end up getting burned."

"Perhaps it's worth it."

"No. We should burn the wand, who knows what he might have done with it, perhaps it's got some taint on it, a virus or I don't know."

"A demon virus, seriously?"

"Sure, it's not crazier than half of the stuff we've seen."

"And you think I'm crazy for suggesting that Harry is different. I'm keeping the wand, Dean. Until we know more it could end up coming in handy."

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

Dean paced back and forth, his glare shifting between the caved in stair and the demon he had trapped in a Demon's Trap. She was far too smug for his liking and he hoped to God that Sam would show up soon, rather than whoever the bitch was working with.

At least Casey wasn't half bad to look at and so far she had been rather forthcoming with information resulting in that he wasn't all that bored. What she had said matched what Harry had told them. Yellow-Eyes being named Azazel, the Devil, God and Angels probably being real. Dean whished that the world had remained a simpler place. Monsters he could deal with, but all these biblical beings weren't really something he enjoyed thinking about.

"So why do demons avoid wizards?" he asked after a particularly long silent spell, when they'd been stuck in the basement for what must have been hours.

The woman rolled over on the carpet so that she was looking straight at him, keeping her head propped up in her hand. "Wizards?" she repeated, quirking her lips. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious. Aren't you eager to sing your heart out any more?"

"Like I said, I'm an open book, but I think I know why you are asking." She gave him a searching glance. "I suppose Harry had a nice little chat whit you."

"What's up with that guy? Everyone seems to know his name."

"He's just the juiciest gossip we've had in, like ever," she smiled self-deprecatingly at the expression she'd used, "so naturally everyone likes to keep track on what he's doing."

"Why?"

"Are you truly this starved for information?"

Dean sneered.

"God himself did a lot to prevent his kind from turning and Harry is just starting to prove why. He's just a baby by our standards,"

"I've noticed your sort seem to insult him by calling him a baby."

"It doesn't surprise me. He's not even ten earthy years old. most don't appreciate getting smoked by someone who's not a tenth their age. How would you feel getting your arse handed to you by a two year old?"

"That's what he is to you?"

"Simplified. He's like a toddler who's got his hands on a stock of nuclear-warheads and who knows how to use them, and at the same time he's got the best defence system, teamed up with the best scientists and doctors in the world. You don't want to mess with that. Despite his age he has climbed the hierarchy just by how powerful he is and he's near the top, if not at the top and I might add that we do grow into our powers meaning that we probably haven't seen the full extent of it yet."

"It sounds bad," Dean muttered. "Really, really bad."

"In your opinion, certainly. Setting of a volcano is no easy feat, even for the most powerful of us. It might be simple in theory, stir up a pocket of gas or add a little pressure to the magma, but messing with forces of nature demands a whole lot out of you and it isn't something just anyone can get away with."

Dean blinked, processing what she'd just said. " _He_  did that? Harry is the reason why Tacoma is gone? Why all those people are dead? He started off a volcano?" Dean's voice rose steadily, getting shriller.

"Relax there, stud, you're going to work yourself up to a heart attack. Sit down, take a few deep breaths."

"No thanks," he ground out, but followed the advice on calm breaths in any case.

"Suit yourself. To answer your question; Yes he did that and that has a lot of us scared."

"That son of a bitch!"

She chuckled a little. "Still it's not nearly as bad as it could be."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? How does it get any worse than this?"

"As I mentioned, there's a vacuum now. Azazel is dead and there's no one to keep us all in, hmm, line. There is one candidate and the question is if there will be anyone else trying to get the top spot."

"He?"

"Depending on what he wants, he could be the second candidate. It is still unclear what he was trying to prove with the eruption, the rumours aren't exactly forthcoming on that front as of yet."

"The latest I heard he was recruiting."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Helping the enemy now? I hadn't expected that from a Winchester."

"As far as I've understood he is better than the alternative, but yeah, thanks for pointing it out. I feel dirty now."

"Poor you," Casey cooed.

"So are you planning on joining up with him first chance you get then?"

"What's wrong, Dean? Not so sure that you'll be the one walking out of this?"

"Shut it."

"And no, I won't go running to Harry. What you told me indicates that I wouldn't be killed on sight, that doesn't make him the best alternative. Until I know what either side is planning to accomplish I won't join up."

"Uh-huh."

"Can't blame a girl for wanting to stay alive."

"Right, except that you aren't a girl."

"That hurts."

Dean cleared his throat. "I'm sure it does. Back to my original question."

"Hmm, yes; wizards and demons. I say; why would we bother? We can't possess them-"

"Why not?"

"How would you like making your home smack in the middle of a nuclear reactor? Their magic burns us, twists us, trying to cleanse us and as I've heard it it's damn painful, and coming from any of us that is saying something."

"That can't be all there is."

She snorted out a small chuckle. "I'd say something derisive about that, except that you are right. We can't make deals with them, they don't stick."

"How does that work?"

"I've no idea, ask God."

"Very funny."

"I thought so."

She rolled onto her back, resting her hands beneath her head, the low cut on the neckline of her scarlet coloured dress distracting Dean for a short moment, before he chose to look away.

"One other thing is that most wizards have ways to defend themselves from us," she continued. "I suppose most of us prefers easier pray. All in all it's just not worth it."

Silence fell over them again, Dean restlessly pacing, he couldn't relax, not when he knew that something was coming. Whether it would be Sam or the demon bitch's partner, it still meant the same for him, he had to be ready.

Getting increasingly frustrated he sat down and struck up conversation again, anything to take his mind off of things, and if he could learn more in the process it might be worth it.

"You said before that no ones ever seen the Devil."

"Lucifer," she corrected.

"Fine, Lucifer. You said that no one had ever seen him."

"Yes."

"Harry claimed that he had."

She sat up abruptly, giving him a calculation look. "No," she said, "I don't believe it."

"I only repeat his words."

"What exactly did he say?"

"That Lucifer had tried to make him fall in line, that he ha reduced and that he was lucky Lucifer couldn't get to him."

"If that is the truth-"

"I'm only the messenger." Dean held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Things are getting complicated," she muttered.

"Tell me about it."

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

Sam had arrived together with Father Gil, who just so happened to be the other demon, but Sam had the Colt, fixed by Ruby, who by now had placed some of her cards on the table, her being a demon being the most important one, and delivered by Bobby. Casey and the Father were dead as a result and Dean could walk out of the basement scot-free, though just a tiny bit pissed off.

"I want to summon Harry," he said as soon as they were out of the house.

Sam stopped in the middle of a step and gaped. "Why? I thought you wanted to burn the wand."

"Well you kept it hidden away nice and safe, didn't you."

"Yes, I said I would-"

"Good, time to use it. That jerk has a few things to answer for and now we have the Colt, we have the turf and I'm itching to play."

"Why, Dean? I don't get it."

"For one, I was told that he was responsible for Mount Rainier."

Sam swallowed. "Okay, now I get it. Where do you want to do it?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Winchesters summon Harry

"Are you sure about this?" Bobby asked, looking at the intricate Devil's Trap that was painted on the ceiling of his living room. There was a matching one under the dusty carpet right beneath it. They had several gallons of holy water sitting in plastic containers and a few bags of rock salt stashed, as well as a handful of iron pokers. All prepared to take on a demon. "If half of the things we know about Harry is true, this might not be enough."

Dean smiled a grim smile, cocking the Colt. "We got all we need right here, the other stuff is just for the interrogation."

"Just let it be noted that I don't approve."

"It's noted."

"Thanks for letting us do it here, Bobby," Sam said.

"Yeah well, it's not like I wasn't going to let you two idiots fly solo. Let's get this thing rolling; the sooner this is done with the happier I'll be."

"Okay." Sam nodded, smiling a bit awkwardly. "I suppose I'll just try it then." He picked up the wand from the table where they had put it as they prepared the room. He held the stick in his hands, the wand being dwarfed in them. "Here goes nothing." He stood here holding it, and nothing happened.

"Are you thinking about him?" Dean asked impatiently.

"Yes, I'm thinking about him."

"Perhaps you need to think harder?" Bobby suggested.

"Sure," Sam complied, closed his eyes, brow furrowing as he concentrated. He gritted his teeth and his breathing became audible, still nothing changed

"Why isn't it working?" Dean half whined a moment later.

"I don't know," his brother replied, opening his eyes to give him an irritated look. "Why does it have to be me anyway?"

"Cause he gave it to you."

"That was just by chance, your hands were full with the Colt."

"They are now too," Dean smirked.

"Boys, cut it out," Bobby interrupted the building argument. "Just try it again, Sam. Give it some time."

"Okay." Sam closed his eyes again, concentrating hard.

Time passed with the three of them getting more and more tense as nothing happened. It was rather unnerving, waiting for a demon to show up and not knowing if Harry was aware of them trying to contact him or if it had all been a cruel joke that he could have a laugh over, thinking that they were stupid for trying to summon him with a wooden stick.

"So how do we know if it works?" Dean asked, getting annoyed and feeling stupid.

"By me showing up, that's how," Harry answered, startling them.

The demon had appeared in front of them with the same crack as he had disappeared with the previous two times they'd seen him. He had a smile on his face, his black hair was messier than they'd seen it so far, and there was a large blood stain blooming out on his chest, colouring his white shirt a bright crimson.

"Sorry for making you wait lads, I was," he made a humming sound in the back of his throat, "in the middle of something. And for the record, Sam, you don't have to shout. I heard you just fine the first few times." He waved his hand over his chest. Nothing happened. He frowned. "That was supposed to clear off the blood." A distinct look of worry took shape on his face. "What did the lot of you do?"

Smiling in a self satisfied manner, having gotten over the demon's sudden appearance, Dean waved with the Colt. "Why don't you look up?"

Harry followed the instructions, tilting his head. "A Devil's Trap?"

"There's one on the floor too."

Harry looked back down at Dean, the crinkle of worry that had appeared between his eyebrows growing more distinct as he zeroed in on the object in his hand. "Is that the Colt?"

"You bet your fucking demon ass it is!" Dean yelled, exploding suddenly.

"Woah! Okay, if we all just relax," he held up his hands in a placating gesture, "I'm sure we can work something out."

"Work something out? No, I don't think so. You might get kicks out of pretending that you want to help us, but we know better."

"What did I do to earn such a reception? Someone else feel like sharing with the class? Sam?" He was talking really fast, sounding nervous and a bit scared.

"Did you destroy Tacoma?" Sam asked with forced calm.

"Tacoma? You have to excuse me; I'm not all that good at American geography," the joke sounded like a lame effort to cover up that he was afraid.

Sam clenched his jaw. "Did you set off Mount Rainier?"

Harry chuckled shakily. "That's what this is about?"

"Answer the question!" Bobby splashed a container of water at Harry, who spluttered and hissed as the water vaporised inside his mouth and against his skin, making a fizzing noise.

"Yes!" he hissed, through the water. "I made the bloody volcano erupt! Was that what you wanted to hear?"

"You sick bastard," Dean said scathingly. "No we didn't want that to be true. You're an abomination."

"I've never pretended that I wasn't a demon."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes! So you want to kill me? That's it? You think killing me will make this world a better place? That once I'm gone the road will become easier?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Is Dean the only one wanting to yell at me? Sam? Bobby?"

"Why would you start a volcanic eruption?" Sam asked. "You helped us with Yellow-Eyes and the Gate. You killed a demon and the woman who was possessed survived. It doesn't fit together."

Harry looked around at them, searching their faces, seeing Dean's scowl, Bobby's unfriendly stare and Sam's honest disapproval.

"Does it matter what I say? You won't believe it anyway. You know why? Because you are racists. And we are talking actual race here. The only things you can tolerate are humans. Have you had a look at what humans can do? How is that any worse than what I did?"

"It's not a contest," Dean said, "but if it were…" He huffed. "Well, I'm making sure you won't be winning. But before I kill you, you son of a bitch, you will talk. And you will be telling the truth." He grabbed a water container and threw the lot of it over Harry, who groaned in pain as he was soaked.

"You're supposed to ask the question first, you bloody moron!" the demon yelled, his appearance partially hidden by the evaporating water.

"What is it that you want?"

"Ha! I'm not telling. I don't appreciate being forced to do anything. You think some holy water will make me speak? When we first met, we established that it doesn't bother me. It only itches."

"You're about to experience the worst rash of your life then. Sam, give him another dose," Dean ordered, and Sam proceeded to throw the contents of another container over Harry, who gritted his teeth and paced around the circle, unable to step outside. Another few containers followed, bringing the demon to his knees, clawing at his own skin, proving that quantity could overtake even the strong.

"What is it that you want?" Dean repeated the question harshly.

"I've been to Hell," Harry growled, voice scratchy as he looked up at them through his wet bangs. "I was tortured for nearly seven hundred years, the majority of them by the most sadistic and morbidly creative bastard ever to grace the pit with his presence. Before that, when I was a kid, I was tortured again and again by the worst Dark Lord in human memory. You will have to do better than that to make me talk."

"Challenge accepted. Let's try the salt. Bobby."

Bobby grabbed one of the bags and emptied it over Harry's head, the white crystals entering his mouth and eyes, working like acid, making the skin burst and blood pour out of the tissue.

"Ready to talk yet?" Dean pressed.

"Screw you!" Harry gurgled slightly, spitting out a mouthful of blood and salt. "If you are too idiotic to realise that we are on the same side, then fine! I won't bother with you anymore."

"More water," Dean requested.

"Dean," Sam said cautiously, "lets speak privately for a moment."

"What?"

"Come on." Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, giving him a nudge. "Bobby."

"What about him?" Dean nodded in Harry's direction.

"He's not going anywhere."

The muscles in Dean's jaw were working. "Fine."

The hunters walked away, relocating to the kitchen.

"What is it?" Dean said, leaning against the counter, keeping close attention to any sound coming from the other room that might alert them to Harry getting up so something.

"Perhaps we are doing this the wrong way," Sam started, "he clearly isn't willing to talk, not when we do it like this. Maybe we should back off, hear what he wants to say for himself."

"You want to listen to what that mass murderer has to say? He'll lie."

"I'm with Sam on this one," Bubby said gruffly. "We need to know what's going on, and if giving him what he wants for a little bit is the way to do it, then I way we do it. I don't' think he's been lying to us so far, only omitting things."

"Are you two insane?"

"He's still trapped. We don't have anything to lose by listening."

Dean and Sam exchanged glares, looked in silent battle.

"If he as much as twitches, I'm pulling the trigger," Dean said, yielding, showing that he wasn't agreeing but that he was willing to let them get their way.

"Fine."

"Fine."

They got back to the living room, finding the demon still sitting on the floor, looking miserable with his drenched clothes, the white salt in his hair and blood all over.

"We'll hear you out," Sam said. "We," getting a glare from his brother he sighed. "I and Bobby are willing to give you a chance to explain what's going on, without judging you."

"And why should I believe that? Why should I care about putting you straight? You will put a bullet in my head at the end of this either way. Why should I bother? What's in it for me?"

"You obviously have something planned for us, and want our cooperation, for that to happen we need some answers."

"Right then," he sneered in response. "Just because you asked so nicely… Though it would be  _nicer_ if I didn't have a gun pointed at me."

"Dean, relax," Sam implored.

Dean looked ready to shoot without questioning anything, holding the Colt in a steady grip, looking down the barrel. "You talk, with the gun aimed at you, call it insurance."

"Whatever," Harry stated, glaring. He appeared very reluctant to say anything and it took a few moments before he started to speak, getting prompted by how Dean was shifting his weight from his right to his left foot, back and forth in impatience. The slight shifting of his finger on the trigger of the revolver might have had something to do with it too.

"I was like you once. I thought that you should save everybody. The reality is that it is not possible no matter how fucking hard you try. People will die, and they will die screaming their throats raw and there isn't anything you can do to change that. What you can do is to have a goal and you can do whatever it takes to succeed. Try for a minute to not think of me as a demon."

"I don't think I can do that," Dean muttered.

"You know what?" Harry's eyes narrowed to slits. "I've stopped caring about what you think. There is a war coming and it is leading up to something far worse."

"The apocalypse?" Bobby questioned.

"I mentioned that last time? Yes, the apocalypse. As foretold in the obscure versions of the bible. The demons in general want it to happen. And that would be bad for you lot, which I think you might be able to understand. Humanity would be wiped out and the process would be far from pretty. Believe it or not, I am one of those who believe it would be bad for my kind too. We might get to have our time out in the open, getting a taste of fresh air and sunlight as we enjoy the never ending buffet of people to wreck havoc on, but in the end we will be wiped out too. The whole point of the apocalypse is to cleanse the earth and start over, that means humans and demons alike, even if most of my kind is too bloody stupid to realize that. Main point: I don't want to die, okay?  _That_  you should be able to get without trouble."

Harry waited for them to take in what he'd just said. They looked sceptic with a hint of worry and unease mixed in.

"What is it that you want with us?" Sam questioned.

"Next question."

"You don't get to chose that," Dean said.

"And what are you going to do about it? Shoot me and you get no answers at all. Next question."

"What was the point of the volcanic eruption?" Sam posed another question.

"If I am to stop the apocalypse there are things I will have to do," the demon began to explain. "I will have to fight with everything that I have. To fight in a war you need soldiers; I need demons on my side. Demons flock around the most powerful. Ergo, I need to prove that I am just that. Right now I am a general without an army, but I still have to make the tough calls. Some battles will be lost, but the war must be won. Have I spoken clearly enough, or do I have to shove the information down your throats?"

"You're full of bullshit," Dean said.

"If there is even the slightest chance that I am telling the truth, do you want to risk it?"

"Maybe we should think about this," Bobby said.

"Bobby-" Dean began.

"Don't think for a minute that I like him, boy. Nothing he's said so far has won him any sympathy, But we've known for some time that something big is coming. There is no denying it."

"Right then, am I free to go now?"

"The hell you are," Dean growled. "It's all just a game to you, but this is our lives and I am through with letting demons fuck us over. This will end here."

"John-"

"Don't you dare talk about him!"

"Okay, I'm done. You said that you would listen, obviously you will not. Just kill me and be done with it."

"My pleasure." Having had enough Dean aimed the Colt and as he hasn't secured it during the conversation, all he had to do was to pull the trigger. He didn't care that Sam was telling him to stop, that his brother was moving to physically hinder him.

He fired and the bullet's interjectory course was clear. It was headed towards Harry's chest at a startling speed and there was nothing to say that it wouldn't pierce him and destroy him in the process.

However, the demon looked at the bullet and it slowed to a crawl so that they could all see it floating gently in the air a foot or two in front off him, possibly still in the green-eyed man's direction though at a speed that was too insignificant to tell.

With a lazy smile Harry plucked it out of the air and held it in his hand; holding it up close to his eye between his thumb and forefinger, idly admiring the craftsmanship of the small metal piece.

Dean stopped breathing. He didn't get what had just happened, Sam and Bobby seemed to be in a similar state of mind.

"As if it was going to be that easy," Harry said and let out a chuckle, putting the bullet away in a pocket.

"But you-you," Sam stammered, "you couldn't use your powers!"

"That's what I wanted you to believe. Play time is over, time to get down to business. Dean, open the Devil's Trap on the ceiling, Bobby, take the one on the floor."

As Sam stood frozen, watching the unthinkable happen, the two men did as instructed, Bobby bending down and lifting up the edge of the carpet, reviling the red spray-paint of the Devil's Trap and he scratched at it with a knife, opening it. Dean had grabbed a chair and was doing the same thing to the Devil's Trap on the ceiling.

Harry took the time while they were working on that to clean up his shirt. He was no longer soaked or covered in salt and blood, looking immaculate, even his hair had become neater.

When Dean and Bobby were both finished, he made a vague hand gesture, which Sam was beginning to understand was just for show or perhaps habit and not truly needed. "As you were," he said casually.

Dean and Bobby, who had been behaving perfectly natural, twitched now as if they came out of a trance.

"What the hell just happened?" Bobby grunted, rubbing at his eyes.

"What he said," Dean muttered. "My head feels fuzzy."

"I took control of you for a little bit, it's nothing harmful and you'll feel okay in a moment."

"How did you do that?"

Harry shrugged. "Magic," was the noncommittal answer. "You cannot kill me; you cannot hurt me, not permanently. What you did to me now, you only managed as a result of me allowing it. Had I wanted to I would have escaped as soon as I appeared here. You are damned lucky that I do not want to kill you. If I had wanted to you would have died the first time we met. This may change however so I caution you to not piss me off in the future. Next time you decide to call me because you want information, or to kill me; don't bother, I will just leave again. If you are dying, or there are demons around, feel free to use the wand. Those are the rules." Smirking broadly he stepped out of the circles that had previously contained him.

As he walked passed them Dean lashed out, trying to hit him. Before his fist could make an impact he was flung back against one of the walls, hitting it hard so that the air was expelled from his lungs.

"Dean!" Sam called in alarm, looking as Dean struggled with the invisible force holding him plastered to the wall.

"And I thought that we would be able to part on amicable terms," Harry said softly, "more the fool I. Get your priorities straight, will you? I am not your enemy, though right now I am thinking seriously about changing that. I'll give you a last word of advice before I leave. Don't trust Ruby, she's a lying little bitch who's working for Lilith. But it might be useful to keep her around as she will do her best to keep you alive. That is actually the only reason she is still in one piece. She'll keep you alive as that's part of the plan for both teams, though that's one of the big secrets so they'll most likely beat you near an inch of your life if you allow it, even if they don't kill you. So long chaps."

Harry turned on his heel and was about to disappear when, Sam moving fast picked up on of the remaining containers of holy water and flung the contents at Harry. It caught him unawares, making him hiss in slight pain and Dean fell to the floor with a grunt as the demon's concentration slipped.

Bobby saw the opportunity and grabbed on of the other containers pouring more water. This time it didn't work, the water bouncing off an invisible barrier.

"That was uncalled for," Harry said calmly, turning around, water dripping from his hair again, the fabric of his shirt were drenched, plastered against his shoulders. The next moment he was dry again, and he looked annoyed. "Immobilized it is." He flicked his wrist, Bobby, Dean and Sam getting dragged by the magic, flung none to gently through the air and being seated in three chairs that had appeared out of nowhere.

"I can't believe I'm doing this, damn it," Harry muttered, sitting down in a fourth chair that materialized so that he was seated face to face with them, he crossed his legs casually and placed his hands on the armrests leaning back."I so very much hope it will be worth the effort, because I'm already sick and tired of dealing with you behaving like narrow-minded fools. What do I need to do to convince you?" he asked himself.

Dean opened his mouth, Harry's eyes snapped up at the motion and with a snap of his fingers Dean's mouth was shut with an audibly click as his teeth jammed together. "I would appreciate not getting interrupted," the demon informed him. "I had planned on simply saving your lives a few times and be done with it." He snorted. "John hinted to that you wouldn't make it that easy. So here's the deal and listen carefully because I will not be repeating myself."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry tells the Winchesters a bit and talkes with a partner.

Harry was debating with himself about what he should do next. On one hand he wanted to just leave them bound in their chairs and get to what he was doing before they called him, back to recruiting, or slaying the demons who decided that Lilith remained the best alternative as it might be.

On the other hand he wanted to torture these two insolent whelps for messing things up, for being highly annoying and for being just as screwed by destiny as he himself had always been.

Thirdly, which was what the alternative he was about to go through with, he actually wanted to tell them a few things; only as much as necessary to get them off his back and out on the field again fighting and fighting the right thing for that matter, telling them enough so that they would be doing something of use, building an alliance of convince.

The torturing alternative was completely out of the question, something he was afraid that he would end up telling them if he didn't watch himself. He should avoid it if he at all could as it would give them too much power over him, then again resisting might turn out to be futile. He didn't know. That was the problem with being the first of any kind. You had no one to ask about the rules; it's all trial and error until you figured out what your powers and limitations are.

Sighing softly he began to speak. "You are aware of my age. You've heard a bit about my past and I am aware that the demon calling herself Casey that you meet in Ohio the other day told you that demons develop their powers as they grow older. She was also the one to tell you about the volcano, am I right?" Harry paused and observed the hunters who remained stoically silent, glaring venomously at him, in Dean's case though the silence might have been involuntary as his jaws and lips were still clenched together by magic.

Harry held out his hand and a crystal tumbler filled with three fingers of dark amber liquid appeared in it. He'd summoned the drink all the way from Germany where he knew that the missing firewhiskey would irritate a certain associate of his, probably anyway, though the man might be just as annoyed at having to wait in the first place while he tended to the Winchester's and their  _uncle_ Bobby.

He swirled it around in the glass, looking at it, not minding the increasingly irritated looks he could feel that he was receiving from the trio of hunters, nor their unwillingness to confirm his statement. He brought the glass up to his lips and took a large sip, letting the liquid burn down his throat and settle like fire in his stomach giving him a sense of calm and perhaps a hint of nostalgia as memories of when he'd first tried the alcoholic beverage swirled in the peripheral of his mind.

"Things are still fairly new to me," he continued after giving Dean a smug little smirk as the man tried to say something and the sound came out muffled and unintelligible, "but as far as I've been able to understand I am still as much a wizard as I am a demon. The wizard part didn't go away, only my humanity and perhaps not even all of it, though it's hard to be a judge on that part. I'm not about to go into a philosophical discussion about what makes a human a human as some people who's never been to hell are just as bad as your average demon or worse."

He brought the glass up to his lips once more, taking another drink of it. "Anyway, I retain most of the abilities that are found in a wizard, some things I can no longer do, others I can do far better and I've developed most powers found in demons. I've yet to uncover all my powers and limitations.

"A promise made by a wizard is not to be taken lightly. You know how demon deals work I'm sure. When you make a bargain the crossroad demon will keep it, for various reasons, to keep business coming mainly, but also because what you give up is your soul and souls are powerful things that can't be treated just anyway, the fabric of this universe won't allow it and if you are foolish enough to try despite this, the backlash will be spectacular. Wizards are generally even more tightly bond to oaths they make; at least when committing to an unbreakable vow, however there are parts of the wizard's nature corresponding to this that aren't voluntary. Life debts are something we cannot control. When we are saved from death there is a bond made between the rescuer and," he made a small contemplative humming noise, "the rescuee, if you will. I, as a demon and a wizard are bond by both and that has evolved into something even stronger."

Harry took another sip of the whiskey, stalling, trying to figure out just how much he had to tell them for things to work out and how he could breach the subject without ending up spilling all the beans no matter how involuntary it would be if he did so. "This is the reason I mentioned your father, the reason I helped him escape hell and part of the reason why I am not going to kill you, not anytime soon anyway. I owe your father a debt and until my magic is satisfied that it had been repaid I cannot harm you. Debts are inherited, you own the debt. I thought that helping John out and letting the two of you go on your merry way after killing my  _darling wanna be father_ would be enough, turns out that it was not."

"But you threw Dean into a wall," Sam said, frowning and suspicious at the same time he appeared to be a bit hesitant, not knowing how the utterance would be met.

Harry snorted lightly, not bothered by the younger man's half-question. "I can't cause you permanent damage or death, that doesn't mean I won't be able to defend myself and incapacitate you as needed, so don't go thinking that I am some sort of cuddly teddy-bear."

Dean made another muffled sound, trying to say something rude no doubt.

"How can we trust that you won't suddenly turn on us?" Sam asked next. "How can we know when this dept you owe our father is repaid?"

"You can't, but I thought you were intelligent enough to put together a few clues, John did keep on bragging about you going to College and all. I have told you that I do not want the apocalypse to happen, and you are key players. Even without my debt I would not want to kill you, or even have you die until the situation is taken care off. The only reason I am telling you about the debt is that you need assurance. I am sure you still don't believe me and only time will show that I am incapable of killing you and actually bond to keeping you alive."

Harry drained the rest of his glass and stood up, making the tumbler disappear as if it had never been there.

"There is something you are not saying," Bobby grumbled, looking up at the demon from under his hat.

Harry grimaced, making a small dissatisfied sound. "Take it or leave it, I feel sick having told you this much of this so I think I'll have to go wash my hands in some blood, before I end up showing you my entire hand." He was met with horrified faces and rolled his eyes at them. "I would tell you I was kidding, but it will likely turn out to be the truth, but it'll most likely be demon blood so you need not be all that bothered, you'd do the same to the demons if they appeared in front if you. Let's make a recap before I go."

Harry walked up to them and leaned in close to Dean. "I am not your enemy," he said even as Dean leaned back as the demon invaded his personal space. Harry backed up and leaned in close to Sam instead. "A demon named Lilith want to fatten you up and use you to bring upon the apocalypse and she is going to use Ruby the bitch to do it. When you run into demons you call me and I'll deal with them." He backed away turning his back to them and cleaning none existent lint from this shirt. "It's all rather clear. Finally I recommend that you find out all you can about wizards and debts. Perhaps that will make you trust me a little bit and save all of us from a lot of idiocy originating from you."

He turned to face them once more, the fancier chair he had been seated on disappearing. "The body binds you are under will dissipate once I'm gone. The spell keeping Dean's mouth close though may stay longer. I'll see you far too soon for both our tastes I'm sure."

He turned on his heel and as there was nothing to stop him this time around he was able to apparate away with the usual crack.

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

Dean made a sound of protest, but it was too late, Harry was already gone. The next moment they all landed on the floor with low thumps as the chairs dissolved under them.

"Son of a bitch," Bobby muttered with a groan.

Dean made muffled sound that was probably as powerful a curse.

"At least we can move now," Sam said, trying to stay positive as he got up from the floor and dusted off his pants. Dean snorted through his nose. "And we're alive," Sam continued, "though I can't understand why. I don't get him. We need more info, badly."

"Yeah," Bobby agreed, having gotten to his feet too. "I'll start asking around more urgently, someone must know something about wizards. If there's a whole community of them out there in hiding there has to be tons of lore on them and someone will know how to get it."

"Yeah, it would be great if we knew a bit more about what we are dealing with."

Dean made another sound, drawing their attention.

"What?" Bobby asked, and Dean rolled his eyes, before getting over to a table and finding a mostly empty piece of paper and a pen writing down something hastily and handing the note to Sam.

 _I was right about Ruby_ , it read and Sam had to push down the urge to hit his brother over the head.

"You know what?" he said crossing his arms. "I think I'll enjoy you being unable to talk.

Dean gave him the finger.

"Jerk," he answered.

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

The outskirts of München, Germany, an abandoned warehouse. A crack and the appearance of a dark-haired man wearing a white shirt and dark trousers. "You've been keeping yourself entertained while I was gone I'm sure?" he greeted.

Another demon was seated on plush dark brown leather sofa in front of a fire, with a tumbler of firewhiskey in hand and the bottle standing on a table next to him. The setting seemed off in the dark local with its five meter tall ceiling and derbies covered floors, but on the square of a red oriental carpet, a domestic scene was set up in a way only magic was able to accomplish.

It almost made you able to ignore the half a dozen mangled and bloody bodies that littered the floor of the hall, the cold, damp air that had a tint of rust to it and the steady rainfall that was hammering against the tin roof.

"I've managed," the demon answered, the lilt of his words the same as Harry's identifying him as a British speaker of the English language. He was dressed all in black, a neat ensemble of black suit, black shirt and gray silk tie with an elegant baroque pattern in a darker shade. Perhaps it was a bit stereo typical nevertheless it fitted him and made him look the businessman that he essentially was.

An overcoat that was just as black was hanging over the back of the sofa. Polished blank shoes were glinting in the fire light and clever brown eyes set in a cleanly shaven face were looking intently at Harry. "I saw that you nicked some of the whiskey, I don't blame you, but I should berate you as you gave this bottle as a gift to me and it is not polite of you to drink it all up."

"Relax, Crowley, if you've grown fond if it I can get you more and if I am correct the custom is that you share the drink."

"Depends on the culture and in most cases it's the receiver's choice if it is to be shared. You've not had the time to enjoy the fine things in life, have you Harry?"

"No, not particularly. What do you think of the whiskey of my people?"

"It's alright, I suppose, certainly strong enough, but I still prefer something a little closer to home and with a bit more age."

"I'll keep that in mind when we survive this and I decide that you deserve a gift."

"That's right, you make yourself a little memo of that, I will be cashing in, once we avert the fucking apocalypse!" Crowley's calm voice turned into a harsh yell and Harry rolled his eyes at his companion's antics, sitting down across from the other demon in on an identical sofa.

"Remind me again why I agreed to be a double agent?" Crowley said dryly, in a calmer tone after taking a large gulp of whiskey.

"Because you wanted to," Harry replied with slight amusement, "this is your plan after all. It was you who approached me back in hell on Azazel's request as he wanted me to know a bit about making deals and who better than the King of the Crossroads to do it, but as the sly bastard you are, you managed to get something more out of it."

"Bla, bla, bla," Crowley said making an impatient gesture with his free hand, "get on with it."

"And here I thought you were suffering from amnesia since you wanted me to tell what happened between us."

"Take care boy, you may have the most juice of the two of us, but I'm still the one with the most knowledge."

"Yeah, yeah, threaten me all you want _, partner_."

"I'll take you up on that one if you keep insulting me, I can always just hurt you a little bit and then send you back out."

"You do know why we're here, because I was the only one you felt safe enough to tell about how disloyal you are to our race's creator. Lucky for you I was inclined to agree with you in that Lucifer will destroy us all when our usefulness runs out. Following that we decided that I being the more directly powerful one, as you just pointed out, thanks for that by the way, would lead the opposition and you, being the one refined in how to play the game would assume the part expected of you."

"Took you long enough to agree to it though."

"Perhaps, but I'm in on it now and you cannot say that I haven't done my part of the deal since we came to an agreement after my last visit to Hell. How is seducing Lilith going?"

"Swimmingly. She trusts me about as much as I trust you

Harry chuckled. "That well? I'm sure you'll get around to it."

"I'm inclined to agree with you there, I'm very effective when my life is at stake, though I do not appreciate a situation where it is in jeopardy."

"Now, now, Fergus, don't be like that. You know that playing Lilith is your best chance of survival in the long run. If she wins you are dead. If you double cross me you are dead. If you do exactly as we've planned you might pull through."

"Sad but true. Do you have a thing for calling people by their first names?"

"You caught me there. Yes, I tend to prefer calling people by the names their parents gave them as opposed to names they gave themselves; I suppose it stuck after the whole debacle with Tom slash Voldemort."

"Right, that's charming, now you made me think about badly written fanfiction."

Harry laughed. "You read fanfiction?"

"Not the point." Harry gave him a pointed look forcing Crowley to say, "and no I don't. Nevertheless, do refrain from calling me Fergus if you please, I don't want my origin to become public knowledge."

"I've never understood the obsession with names and wanting to change them. True names and the ones we fling around are very different things. They're just names."

"Then call me what I want to be called or I'll start calling you boy-saviour or one of those other ridiculous titles you were given during your little war."

"Ouch, that stings."

Taking a sip of his drink Crowley changed the subject. "What did the two wannabe heroes call you over for?"

"Nothing special, they were angry at me after finding out about the volcano and thought that they could demand answers. I don't think explaining my reasons helped any though."

"It wouldn't, they don't understand war."

"True. I had a little bit of fun with them and with a bit of luck they'll get their heads out of their arses and start working the way we want them to."

"Good, then I suppose your time in the land of the _free and willing to sell their souls to a larger degree than the rest of the world_ wasn't completely wasted, the corpses started to stink in your absence and I see no reason to put my nose through that if I don't have to."

Harry hummed and waved his hand, the bodies that lay all across the large floor of the warehouse disappearing in sudden blazes of fire, leaving nothing behind. "Sad about that," he murmured, "I had thought that some of them would be wiling to jump ship."

"Loyalists the lot of them. Fools."

"What's our next step?"

"We continue with what we've been doing. You keep recruiting and I keep trying to get closer to Lilith."

"You truly waited here just to say that to me?"

Crowley shrugged. "Being away from Lucifer's First for a bit is a welcome change, even if it means that I have to be in Germany sitting on the conjured furniture of a wizard."

Harry shook his head. "Well this wizard will be leaving if there is nothing else the crossroad demon wants."

"Feel free to leave, you know what to do if you want to get in touch."

"So do you." He rose to his feet. "How long do you want to keep the setting?"

"Just half an hour more would be appreciated."

"Fine. See you later, Crowley." Harry turned on his heel and apparated away.

Crowley rolled his eyes, reaching for the bottle of firewhiskey and filling up his glass. "And he wonder why he is mocked for being a wizard," he muttered. "Should point out that it's giving demons a bad name if he keep appearing that noisily on the other hand it does give some comfort knowing that he has appeared."


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Dean ask Harry for help wiht breaking Dean's contract.

"I can't believe you did that even when I told you not too." Dean was doing his best not to shout with his frustration, he was pacing by the impala, to agitated to be still. Sam was in a similar position.

"I had to," he insisted. "I had to try something."

"Right, because now we're in much a better position to get me out of the deal. You shouldn't have killed her."

"At least we know that she doesn't hold the contract, and it isn't like she ever would have told us."

"And now what? What do we do now?"

Sam didn't answer for a moment, glowering as he leant against the trunk of the car. He had no bright ideas and it wasn't as if he was pleased about what had happened, about the fact that the crossroad demon Dean had dealt with had been less than useless, and he wasn't exactly proud about putting a bullet between her eyes, but it was all mote because neither did he regret it.

"Let's ask Harry," Sam suggested eventually.

"No," Dean immediately responded, coming to a standstill.

"Why not?"

"He's a demon."

"I know. So was the crossroad demon."

"Don't try to be smart with me."

"Fine! But I still think we should ask Harry. What can it hurt? So far he hasn't done anything to hurt us, the opposite is closer to the truth. It's better than me wanting to ask Ruby."

"That bitch is out of the question," Dean argued without giving a proper response to Sam's proposition.

"I thought you'd say so and well we have to try something."

"No!"

"Come on, Dean!"

"No! They are both out of the question. They are both lying scumbags who are to good for Hell."

"He might know something; he's proved that he has a lot of pull."

"Have you forgotten about Mount Rainier?"

"No, but he explained that."

"Yes, and what a nice explanation it was," Dean said sarcastically.

"I don't agree with it-"

"I would hope not."

"But he's the best shot we've got. You're not going to Hell Dean. I won't let you."

Dean was silent, scowl firmly on place on his face. "Damn it!" he swore as Sam glowered down at him, his face holding an expression Dean never had been able to deny. "Fine! Get out the magic stick and we'll talk to him. If this goes wrong it's on you."

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

"Hello boys, what can I do for you today?" the Green-Eyed Demon appeared behind them, where Sam and Dean was standing by the car that was parked on some small dirt road.

The brothers swirled around, guns at the ready, Sam with the wand in one of his hands. "We wanted to ask you something-"

"No, I can't break Dean's deal," Harry said, swaggering over and leaning against the Impala and ignoring the death glare he got from Dean because of it.

"How did you know that was what I was going to ask?"

Harry smirked. "Please," he said, "news travels fast, I know you killed that crossroads demon, it doesn't take a genius to figure out the rest."

"So why can't you break Dean's deal?" Sam pressed.

"Because there are three ways to break the contract, all of which are impossible."

"Three?"

"Get the demon holding the contract to give it up, not happening, they really want you to go to hell Dean." Dean scowled. "Two, I get hold of the contract and do one," they know I would burn the contract to screw them over so not happening. Three kill the holder of the contract."

"How's the last one a problem?"

"The one holding it is off limits. We don't want to kill her."

"If it gets Dean out of the contract we do want to," Sam insisted.

Harry rolled his eyes in an excessive manner. "Think one step further please. In war you have to pick your battles and you do not choose a small skirmish when the alternative is the fight that will tip the scales."

"I'm a skirmish?" Dean asked incredulous, and insulted.

"Sorry, but yes. Compared to doing what it would take to save you are of little importance or that's what I think so far, though it is curious why they are so very keen to drag you down into the pit, so I might op your status eventually."

"Awesome."

The demon smirked. "Just don't hold your breath, yeah? Anyway no need for you to pout it's very unbecoming," neither of the two hunters were close to pouting, angry scowls would be a closer description of their facial expressions. "I do have some good news for you. For all that I can't save Dean a trip to tell, I should be able to make it a very short one."

Sam got a look of hope back in his eyes. "What?" he asked breathlessly.

"I helped your dad to get out, didn't I? Doing the same for you should be easy enough, probably, and unlike him you should be able to come back to life again as we can have your body ready for you."

"What's the catch?"

"As far as I'm concerned, no catch."

Dean scoffed. "The day I believe that, pigs will fly."

"If you insist that could be today," Harry said levelly.

Sam and Dean stared.

"Hadn't you two researched wizards?" he said, unimpressed at their stupid looks.

"Yes," Sam murmured hesitantly, "a bit. It's been hard to find anything concrete."

"Then you should know a little bit about what a wizard can do. To that I can add that I've not lost nearly any of my abilities, but I shan't need to make a pig fly I'm sure."

"Fine, lets play your game," Dean relented. "What would we have to do?"

"We need a Devil's Gate opened, I might be able to flick back and forth between here and down there at will, but I can't take any passengers. You need to walk out."

"So how do we do that?"

"Same way as last time should work just fine. What I am saying is: do not loose the Colt."

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Good, then when your time comes you great the Hell Hounds, I fix up your body, Sam drives off to the Devil's Gate in Wyoming with the rosy smelling corpse while I locate you in the pit and escort you out and then you can be on your merry way, continuing to be a pain in the ass to the rest of demon kind. Do we have a plan?"

Dean shared a look with Sam, speaking without words as they were wont to do.

"Unless we come up with something better, we're in," Sam answered.

"You won't. I'll try too looking into it though. If they want Dean in hell, I don't. Stay alive and keep the Colt close, yeah?" Harry turned on the spot and disappeared with a soft crack.

"That is getting old really fast," Dean muttered, glowering at the empty air where the demon had been a moment earlier.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean is hurt and Sam makes a deal with Harry.

Things had gone to shit. They were royally fucked up. Bela bloody Talbot had stolen the Colt from right under their noses. They'd had a far from nice encounter with a coven of witches, dealing with the demon who back in the day had dealt with Ruby, and the second bitch in question had swooped in saving them, which neither hunter had gotten over. They didn't enjoy getting saved by a demon. When they said as much the blonde had just sneered at them and said "you're welcome," before running off again.

None of that could compare to what was happening now though. It couldn't even come close.

"Dean!" Sam screamed, running towards his brother. He saw Dean as if it were a dream. Dean staggered back as the bullet entered his chest. An expression of surprise overtook his face, and his eyes seemed larger than normal, green and shiny. Slowly his knees gave out under him and he landed on them hard. A gasping intake of breath. He fell to his side, crumpling like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

The man who had taken the shot was already running away. And that was just it. He was a man. Not a monster. They shouldn't have to deal with normal dickheads; those kinds of problems should be spared them. Sam let him get away. He wasn't important. Only Dean mattered.

"No, no, no, no, no," Sam muttered frantically, as he got to his brother's side pressing his hands to the wound on his brother's chest. Warm, sticky blood was covering his hands in no time. "You're not supposed to die yet. You have four months to go, damn it."

"Oh, my god," he could vaguely hear how a voice said, a woman. "I'll call an ambulance," she continued. He was to out of it to take much notice and soon enough the air was filled with the sound of sirens and men with a stretcher was trying to take Dean away from him.

"He's still alive, son," an older man in scrubs was telling him, "you need to let go if we are to save him. Are you family?"

"I'm his brother."

"Come on then, you can ride in the ambulance."

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

Sam was sitting in an empty waiting room at the hospital. Dean had been rolled off to intensive care as soon as they got there. He had been told that they had to stop the bleeding the bullet had caused as soon as possible or he would die. Apparently a lung had been punctured too and it was likely that fluid had entered there causing him to have trouble breathing. Nothing else had been said and he hadn't been allowed near. Hours had passed and though sleep would have been the best option for him Sam couldn't even think about closing his eyes. Staying awake was the least he could do for his brother as he was fighting to stay alive.

After another hour or so a doctor came up to him, giving him news. They were bad. Dean was stable for now, but they had not been able to stop the bleeding completely. What they would have to do was to go in for another surgery, but they weren't certain Dean's body could take that strain so soon, so for now they were monitoring him. If he survived another few hours they would go in and operate again and then they would see.

Sam was left once more and he felt alone, very much so, and desperate. Dean had to make it.

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

Despite fighting against the need to sleep Sam had eventually gone under, sitting on an uncomfortable chair in a small room at the hospital, waiting hour upon hour for news of his brother's condition. He awoke with a kink in his neck, locking blearily over at a clock that was on the wall in front of him, realizing that the surgery should be happening now since no one had said anything different. Hopefully he would get news soon. Good news.

Hurrying to get a cup of coffee and something to eat so that he could get back to the spot where the doctors would come looking for him Sam walked down the corridor. He had a tight feeling in his stomach which didn't invite for food, but he knew that he had to consume something or else he would be of no use to anyone.

When he returned, a scolding paper cup of coffee in one hand and a half eaten bagel in the other the doctor from before was there looking for him.

"Mr. Everett," the doctor said as he caught sight of Sam, using the fake name that was on the id's he had provided. "If you would sit down."

"I…" Sam said, choking on the word. A request to sit down never meant anything good. "How is my brother?"

Something in his expression must have told the other man that Sam wouldn't be willing to sit down, for he started speaking with a grave expression. He spoke slowly, using medical terms that went over Sam's head, but the sentiment didn't.

"No," Sam said in protest, as if the word could undo everything he'd just been told. "You have to be able to do something."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Everett. We've done all we can. I would suggest that you go see him now. Take your time. But in the end it is only the machine's keeping him alive, the merciful thing would be to let him go. It is not a decision you have to make now. You have my condolences."

"He's net dead. You only say that when someone is dead."

The doctor smiled sadly. "I apologize, Mr. Everett, of course it was too soon. Go see your brother. See him for yourself. Mindy will take you there."

Disheartened and completely unbelieving Sam followed the nurse called Mindy who had showed up while they were talking. He felt as if he was sleepwalking. Nothing made any sense. Dean couldn't be dying. He wasn't allowed to die. Not now and not in four months time either. He hadn't died when he had been electrocuted and he hadn't died when he had been a coma after the car crash, and he wouldn't die now.

The nurse opened the door of a small room for him and he went inside, immediately being assaulted by the beeping of machines monitoring his brother's vitals. Dean was lying in a bed, covered up to his chin with a white sheet. His mouth and nose was covered by an oxygen mask and the skin beside it was deathly pale, gray in hue. His forehead was shiny with perspiration. Though he was breathing his chest was barely moving. It looked bad, as Sam had known it would. It wasn't their first time through something like this.

He walked up to the bed, still in a daze, the same daze he had been in since that good for nothing man had shown up unexpectedly and shot Dean. He took his brother's hand, mindful of the plastic tube that was stuck there. His skin felt cold, as if he was dead already.

When Dean had been electrocuted they had found a faith healer, another man had died because of that, still they had been able to save Dean's life, and their father…

Sam gasped. "I know what to do," he told Dean's unresponsive form.

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

Harry knew damn well that he shouldn't have come. He should have stayed the hell away from this place, never coming near it, not even in thought. He should have stayed safely, or as safe as anyone like him could be, on the other side of the Atlantic. But no matter how wrong it was, he was there for the third time, standing at the edge of a schoolyard, fully visible, not caring who saw him. His eyes were glued on one child. A boy of seven years with inky black hair that was standing up at the back of his head, and with warm brown eyes.

Once upon a time this child would have been his future, now he was but a reminder of a person long since dead, as well as a threat. James Weasley was the child's name and Harry the Demon hated him with a passion. Harry the Wizard was gone and had no say. This small human was an unwanted tether holding him to the god forsaken island he had lived on while he was still alive in the normal sense and he couldn't afford to have that.

Three times he had come to the boy's school with the intent to just rid himself of the problem. Two times he had left without ever making himself known, some strange ache appearing in his gut as he tried to go ahead and kill the boy. Time had yet to prove if this day was to be any different.

He was preparing himself to do it, it shouldn't be so hard. He knew for a fact that it wasn't. A human is very frail. There were many ways a human can be killed, many ways he could rob this boy of his life. A curse at distance. A bullet perhaps. Or close up and personal, his hands around a small neck, squeezing that soft throat until the lips turned blue and the eyes no longer could see.

Harry was about to start walking closer when James stopped the game he was playing, a smile lighting up his face. "Teddy!" he cried in delight.

Harry turned his gaze in the direction his son was looking and saw another boy, a child that was two years older. This one's hair was an unnatural blue and his eyes were the colour of amber. The demon couldn't take another step. Behind the boy stood a tall, noble looking woman. Their eyes locked and she gave him a sympathetic smile that he wished he could rip from her face. He wasn't there because he wanted to know the child he had sired. He had come to kill him! Now he wouldn't be free to do it.

" _Harry!"_  His attention was drawn away from the scene at the schoolyard as Sam's voice echoed through his mind. " _Please, Harry, I need help_ ," the hunter sounded truly desperate.

"An excuse as good as any," he muttered and followed the trace of his wand, apparating to Sam's side.

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

Sam had closed the door of the room where Dean was being kept, certain that no one would dare to disturb him in his grief, but he wasn't grieving anymore, he was taking action. He had the wand Harry had given him clutched in his fist, gripping the wood hard enough to splinter it, yet it seemed to take the abuse with grace.

"And why do I have the honour of being… oh…" The demon had shown up in the room with the customary crack and was speaking in a boarded drawl until he saw Dean. "Well, well, well," he said grinning wickedly, "I see why you called."

"Fix him," Sam demanded, seeing no reason to be polite.

"Hmm," the demon hummed thoughtfully, tilting his head to the side. "Can you hear them?" he asked next.

"What?" Sam asked irritated.

"The hellhounds."

Instinctively Sam reached for his gun, that he kept in the lining of his trousers despite being in a hospital. "They're here?"

"They are outside, circling, waiting for the inevitable. As soon as Dean's heart stops beating they'll grab his soul and deliver it to hell. It is unavoidable. Now, or in four months, your brother will go to hell, why not get it over with?"

"No."

Harry shrugged. "It's your call, though why not do it on your own conditions? Why wait until the time limit they sat up?"

"I'm not letting Dean go to hell. He is not dying. You can save him."

The demon hummed again. "That is the plan," he agreed. "I'll get him out of hell and into a body that's been healed after been mauled by hellhounds, not a big difference between what they can do and a gunshot, though a gunshot is at least clean. You sure you want for Dean to get mangled twice? If he just goes now there's no need to face the doggies later."

"There might still be a way. I need the time to figure it out."

The demon shook his head. "If you want to go insane worrying about this then it's no skin of my back, however there is a slight problem."

"What?" Sam bit out.

"This was not part of the plan."

"So?"

"So I gain nothing by having to bring your moron of a brother back twice. You'll have to pay."

The tall hunter clenched his teeth. "You want to make a deal?"

"Good, I didn't have to spell it out, saves us some time. You're also lucky I know how to make deals, not all demons do."

Sam glowered, not feeling all that lucky. He clenched his hand around the wand he was still holding, making the wood creak in protest. "How long do I get?" he asked.

"How long?" the demon said, confusion lining his face, then Harry laughed, a light of comprehension lighting up his green eyes. "I don't want your soul!"

Sam blinked. "You don't?" That was not what he had expected.

"Blast no! What am I supposed to do with it? Send it to hell where other bastards will profit of it? Nah, I do not think so. I have something else in mind."

"Name your price then."

"I want you to kill me."

Sam gaped. "Excuse me?"

The demon chuckled at the hunter's dumbfounded expression. "Yeah you heard right, though I don't really want you to kill me, but it is close enough. I want you to help me fake my death and you get to be my killer. Sounds like fun, no?"

"Why?"

"You don't need to know that."

"I do if I am to agree to this."

Harry chuckled again, shaking his head condescendingly. "No, you don't, all you need to know is that you do what I say about this thing or Dean will be early to his appointment downstairs."

Sam scowled.

"All in all it's not a bad deal," the demon said next. "Better than either your dad or Dean ever got."

"As long as it saves him."

"It will."

Harry walked closer to Sam, invading his personal space. The two men were standing face to face, Sam only about half a head taller than the demon, something he was not very used to, most of the time he towered above everyone he met.

"How do you want Dean to recover?" Harry asked. "We can have him make a slow, but still miraculous recovery. He could heal slowly over a few days, and then when he is well enough for you to claim that you want to transfer to another hospital or whatever he'd heal right up and be back into fighting shape or we can have him up and running from the get go. It's your choice."

"I want him healed now."

"Get ready to run away form here then, because there is only one thing left before your brother wakes up. You do know how to seal a deal don't you?"

Sam made a face. "Yes," he said, put out at the idea.

"Now, now, Sammy, no need to be like that. A peck on the lips shall suffice."

Sam steeled himself. Harry was already standing close, so all he had to do was lean down slightly and press his mouth to the other males. He did so hesitantly, not all that happy about having to kiss the demon, or the fact that it was a man he had to kiss. Their lips touched, dry, soft and then Harry had put a hand at the back of his neck pulling him close and parting his lips touching Sam's lisp with his tongue. Sam gasped, surprised. It didn't feel bad. It was like kissing a girl and pulled back with all his strength.

"What the fucking hell, man!" he yelled, wiping his mouth furiously with the sleeve of his shirt. "You said a peck would suffice!"

Harry smiled like the cat that's got the cream, his green eyes almost glowing eerily, showing off his true nature. "A peck would suffice, yes, but what would the fun be in that?"

"You- you!" Sam spluttered.

"Relax will you? I meant nothing by it, I just wanted to freak you out a bit, and I think I did that very well. Or perhaps you are freaking out because you liked it more than you thought you would, hmm?"

"No!" Sam said vehemently.

"Protesting a bit to strongly there, Sammy-boy?"

"Heal Dean!" he said, changing the subject.

"It's already done. To caught up in the kiss to pay attention?"

"Shut up!"

Harry laughed and disappeared with a louder than usual crack.

Sound of movement had Sam turning around to look at Dean, his brother was removing the oxygen mask. "What did I miss?" he asked. He frowned looking at Sam. "You look weird."

"Nothing," he replied. "Nothing at all."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a time loop

They were in the Impala, driving on some road in the middle of nowhere; Sam wasn't even sure what state they were in. Last he'd checked they'd been in Missouri, but they had been heading North West for several hours and they could be in any of four states.

Dean hadn't spoken to him since they got out of the hospital last night and he'd been sitting behind the wheel ever since. The lack of rock music was also a bad sign. He expected that he would have to answer for what had happened very soon and he was not wrong. A few miles later Dean stopped the car at the side of the road.

Dean got out, slammed the door behind him harder than he usually would, always being careful about his  _baby_. Sam knew he had to face the music and headed out after him.

"Did I die?" was the first thing Dean asked, his face dark.

"No."

"Then how close was it?" he demanded, seeing through Sam's half lie.

He sighed. "The only things keeping you alive were the machines."

"So how is it that I'm still here, huh? What did you do? You must have done something! I could hear them Sam; I could hear the hellhounds. I was as good as dead and somehow I'm still here!"

"I couldn't let you die. You would go to hell, and I would have no way of getting you out. We don't have the Colt any more, remember?"

"'Course I remember! That doesn't mean that you get to save me!"

"No, of course I don't. Only you and dad are allowed to be self-sacrificial."

"It's my job to keep-"

"No, Dean, it's not! I'm grown up; I can take care of myself and make my own decisions!" Sam was breathing hard, the sound of his breath loud in the silence that followed.

"What did you do?" Dean asked quietly.

"It's really not all that bad," Sam murmured. "Not as bad as you are imagining anyway. I made a deal with Harry, and before you interrupt me, I did not sell my soul."

"You didn't? You made a deal with a demon, a demon who we know made a volcano erupt, killing I don't want to guess how many, and you didn't end up selling your soul?"

"No. He said he didn't want it, that he had no use for it. He asked for something else."

"I'm not going to like this am I?"

"I don't know, because he wouldn't tell me much."

"This just keeps getting better. What did he want?"

"He wanted my help with faking his death for some reason."

"Why?"

Sam shook his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes. He brushed it away. "I told you, I don't know."

"And you agreed just like that?"

"It was that or letting you die!"

"Fine. Okay. Then we'll deal with it when he comes asking for our help."

"You're okay with this?" Sam was frowning. His brother should not have been so agreeable.

"No. Not even close, but if that's what it takes than that's what we will do."

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

Harry had been having a weird few days. Or well, to call them days might be a bit generous, some didn't last very long and so far none had gone all the way to midnight. At any random time of the day Harry would feel a pull end then he would end up where he had been at half past seven in the morning on Tuesday. And it never stopped being Tuesday. And it was the  _same_ Tuesday  _again and again_.

The first time, he was simply confused. The second to eight times he used the strange time loop to gain an advantage on his endeavors, knowing who would stay loyal to Lucifer and who was possible to persuade saved some time, as he could kill the moronic idealists without bothering to speak with them, but when you've lived through the same day about ten times it gets boring and frankly very irritating, not even getting to cause mayhem can lighten something like that up.

The eleventh day was the day Harry decided that he was going to find out what was going on and upon a hunch he decided to drop in on the Winchesters. If they were anything like he had been while he was still mostly normal it would be them causing the disturbance in some way, shape or form.

He apparated to a side alley beside a diner in some quiet, middle-sized town and walked in, seeing Sam and Dean getting comfortable in a booth. He looked around the room, trying to see if anything was strange. There didn't appear to be anything, though one man who was sitting at the counter did give him a inquisitive look, and it might just be because it was in a diner, but he was more or less certain that the smell of chocolate was a bit stronger than it ought to be.

"Good day, lads!" he said, sitting down besides Dean. What happened next had him raising his eyebrow. He had come to expect Dean to be the more explosive of the two, but it was Sam who freaked out.

"What are you doing here!" he practically screamed in a very high pitched voice, jumping to his feet, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

"Okay, I was right when I thought my weird-o-meter was telling me to come here," he muttered, looking up at the hunter with an unimpressed look. "Now sit down and stop making a scene."

"How are you here?" Sam enquired in a lower voice, leaning across the table.

"What are you on about Sam?" Dean asked, he didn't have a clue why his brother was behaving this way, though he did approve of the attitude towards the demon.

"I'm telling you. Yesterday was Tuesday, the day before that was a Tuesday and the day before that and you keep dying every day!"

"Right," Dean muttered, not believing the story anymore than when Sam had first said it when they were leaving the motel.

"How long has it been going on for?" Harry asked curiously.

"I lost count at sixty days."

"Strange. This is the eleventh Tuesday I can remember."

"You remember now? And it took you eleven days to come to us?"

"Now? And you must realize that the two of you are not the centre of the universe."

"I contacted you about five days in I think, but it was no use. The next day you had forgotten like everyone else, but perhaps we can solve this now if you remember what's going on. I've been doing research."

"If what you say is true, then we're dealing with something very powerful, though not almighty as it seems you are the victim and the spell stopped working on me. Now what could possibly fit into that category? Have you pissed anyone off lately?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Someone from your past, with a grudge, that you happen to stumble across then, I reckon."

"Really?"

Harry shrugged. "You said that you had done some research."

"Yes."

Just then the waitress came over, she had been waiting a bit longer than usual Sam noted, probably because of Harry. "Are you boys ready to order?"

"Yes, we are. I'll have the special with, side of bacon and a coffee," Dean said, leaning forward to face her as Harry was blocking his view."

"Do you have treacle tart?" Harry asked.

"Sorry, we don't. We have freshly baked pecan pie. I'm told we have the best Pecan Pie in the state."

"I'll have a slice of that as well," Dean butted in.

The demon though looked put out. "How about your tea, is that up to standard?" as he said this, his dialect became abundantly clear, though he was exaggerating it more than was necessary and the lilt made him sound like some stuffy old English Lord, making the waitress look a bit intimidated, obviously questioning if they were good enough at brew tea to satisfy a fastidious customer, and if they were brave enough to risk disappointing him. Even if normal people had no idea about the things that go bump in the night, they do have some instincts warding them away from danger and Harry radiated dangerous.

The demon looked at her stunned face and sneered. "Never mind that. I'll just take a plain coffee and some toast." He proceeded to tear a napkin to pieces in his fingers, disregarding her completely.

"Of course," she said with a faint smile, jotting his order down. "And what can I get for you?" she asked Sam, trying and failing to make the smile grow stronger.

"I'll take the same," he said in a low voice.

"Okay, I'll be right back with your orders."

Once she was out of hearing range Sam continued their conversation. "I've managed to narrow the list of possible reasons behind this down, however if I am to go by my intuition I'd say that this is a trickster."

" _The_  Trickster?" Dean said, eyebrows raised. "We wasted him!"

"I know that, but there are others out there."

"You wasted a trickster?" Harry said, interest back in his voice. "Did you find out his name?"

"No. Does that matter?"

Rolling his eyes skyward Harry sighed. "Of course it matters. Depending on whom you are dealing with and potentially pissed off if you didn't actually kill him we are looking at a minor problem or a major one. And since it is you two, and I know your kind I'm willing to bet on major without looking into the situation."

"What gives you the right to say that we screw up all the time?" Dean said unhappily.

"Those were your words, not mine; however I do think I mentioned that I used to be like you two imbeciles before I became what I am. Anyhow if you don't have anything more interesting to say I'll go hunt myself a trickster." When they weren't forthcoming with anything right away Harry got up and started to walk away. "I'll be in touch." He backed away from them, and he bumped into a man in suit sitting by the counter eating pancakes. "Sorry," he muttered after giving the man a short look and then he was off.

"Strange," Dean commented.

"You have no idea," Sam retorted.

"Here's your breakfast boys," said the waitress, putting down plates at their table, "where did your friend run off to?"

"He'd forgotten that he had to do something."

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

Harry waited outside the Diner for the better part of an hour. Sam and Dean walked right past him without seeing him, which was expected as he was using a spell to stay invisible to ordinary humans. At long last the man in the suit who had been eating pancakes came out the door and Harry immediately grabbed him and apparated away to a secluded location.

They appeared in the middle of a field, the sky above was overcast not that the weather concerned either man.

"Give up the illusion!" Harry demanded.

"W-what are you talking about?" the man asked in a terrified stammer, leaning away from the demon who was still holding him in an unforgiving grip.

"I don't care about what you do to Sam and Dean, but as I woke up from your little spell it concerns me and I want it to end!"

"I-I have no idea what you're talking about!" he shrieked. "What are you? What do you want? Please don't hurt me. I have a wife and child-"

"Puleeze! Even if that was true you know I wouldn't care. Show yourself!"

The man in Harry's grip looked frightened for a moment longer, before he grinned. He changed appearance; he shrunk in height, his face morphed into that of a younger man, with smile wrinkles and eyes glittering with mischief. Gray hair turned caramel brown and the suit melted away into a comfortable t-shirt. "Well then, demon," the Trickster said, "here I am."

Harry let go of him. "What is your play?"

"One I believe you will approve of."

"Oh really?"

"I am trying to make Sam realize that Dean will die."

"Ohhh."

"It's a hard lesson to learn."

"On that I will have to agree. I might just allow you to keep this going."

"Allow?" The trickster chuckled delightedly. "Dearie, you couldn't stop me if you wanted to."

"You are awfully sure of yourself, if you are so powerful, how come I can remember the last eleven days?"

The shorter man frowned, grin melting away. "I am not sure."

"And here I thought that you knew something about me, as you believe that I approve of Sam getting over the fact that Dean is a dead man walking."

"It's only because I saw you the few times in the beginning when Sam tried to get help from you, which I admit surprised me. The Winchester boys working with a demon!"

"I am not just any old demon."

"So I am learning. If I may ask; what gave me away?"

"You stink," Harry deadpanned.

"Excuse me?"

"You smell like chocolate and caramel."

"My, my, who are we trying to charm?"

Harry sneered. "Once Sam mentioned a trickster I knew. Your kind enjoys sugar, it boosts your powers."

"Charming and well informed too!" The trickster waved his hand and a piece of candy in a bright wrapper appeared. He removed the paper and popped it into his mouth, sucking contently. "What's your name, baby boy?"

Sneering heavier Harry answered, "Give me your name and you shall have mine."

"Nooope," the trickster popped the p. "Can't have that. I know! We'll make a game out of it!"

Unable to hold onto the normal appearance of his eyes as his irritation grew Harry's eyes began to glow green. "I'm not interested in playing twenty questions."

"Come on! I'll make it worth your time. What's your favorite sweet? Didn't you ask for Treacle Tart in the Dinner? I could easily conjure some up for you."

"That was your first question then," the demon allowed grudgingly.

"Excellent!" He conjured up the promised cake, handing over a large piece sat on a plate to Harry. "I believe it is your question then, and we agreed on that we shouldn't ask for names."

"We didn't agree on that," Harry muttered, poking at the cake with a fork he himself had transfigured, but he still asked a question. "Did people worship you?"

"Yes. My turn. How long did it take for you to turn? If you remember that is?"

"Nearly seven centuries."

The trickster whistled lowly. "Impressive."

"Whatever. What was your best trick?"

"Oh, that's a hard one! How am I supposed to pick?"

Harry shrugged as if to say  _not my problem._

"I did enjoy when nearly everyone in America believed that the country had been invaded by Aliens as a radio show was interrupted. It was all a good prank and it was explained to them afterwards, but oh the panic that ensued and the trouble Orson Welles got into! Ah the good old thirties, when people believed in everything they heard. Now you can show people legitimate ghosts and they still don't believe!"

"You are talking about the War of the Worlds?"

"Oh yes. Best prank I pulled that decade for sure."

"And I who had hoped for something more  _mythological_."

"Can't ruin the game just two questions in. How's the tart?"

"Is that your third question?"

The trickster shrugged. "If you force it to be."

The Treacle Tart was the best Harry had ever had, and that was counting for the fact that it was more difficult to enjoy anything since becoming a demon. "It's adequate," he answered.

"Only adequate?"

"Ask a real question."

"Alright. How did you end up in Hell?"

"I walked in."

"Really?"

"Would I lie?"

"Yes."

"Fine I would, but I did walk into Hell."

Several questions later they still hadn't gotten to anything which would reveal their identities and Harry was fed up.

"Enough!" he snapped. "My name was Harry Potter, and I was a wizard. I walked into hell to get rid of a blasted Dark Lord. Now tell me your name so that we can both go back to our own businesses!"

"Harry Potter? You?"

"Yes."

"My, my. That was unexpected. Well then, Mr. Demon who used to be a wizard, Loki at your service."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've just witnessed the start of a beautiful partnership. This should be fun. I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Let me know what you thought and I'll hopefully see you soon.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the time loop becomes a bit worse

Sam was feeling uneasy. It was nearing midnight and so far Dean hadn't died. They hadn't gotten into anything remotely dangerous since he knew to avoid the places where Dean had died previously. This particular Tuesday he had insisted that they go back to their room at the Motel and stay there. He told his brother that he'd be doing research and for all that he cared Dean could do whatever he liked as long as he didn't leave his sight.

"You're boring, you know that right? And I'm bored!"

"I'm fed up with seeing you die, do  _you_  get that?"

"Fine, fine. Since I'm not allowed to leave this room I guess I'll just  _take a looong hot shower_ ," Dean leered suggestively.

"No!" yelled Sam.

Dean blinked. "I've..?" he tilted his head in question.

"Yes."

"Wow, that's lame."

"You have no idea."

"Fine, I'll just lay here on the bed then, starring at the ceiling. That won't kill me, will it?"

"I really hope not, but I wouldn't trust it."

"Okay. Just try to get in as much research as you can then."

"Yeah."

Sam turned back to the computer. "I hope Harry can fix this," he muttered, "because unless something changes I have no idea how to fix this."

"I'm not really comfortable with us putting any hope on him."

There was a loud crack. "Dean, I'm hurt!" said the demon who had appeared.

"Didn't we ward this room?" Dean said, jumping up from the bed.

"The salt?" Harry said blandly. "Didn't we already cover that salt  _just aint gonna_  cut it?"

"Have you found anything?" Sam asked intently, not all that bothered by the demon being able to come into their room at the moment, though he noted mentally to look up stronger wards for keeping him out.

"I did."

"And?"

"And this." He snapped his finger and Dean's neck twisted around.

Sam wasn't even able to scream  _no_. He just woke up to the same damnable music;  _The heat of the moment_  and to Dean saying: "Rise and shine, Sammy."

"Harry!" he yelled angrily, never minding the wand.

Dean frowned.

The demon appeared. "Hi, boys?" he said from the chair he had immediately been seated on. "What can I do for you this glorious  _Tuesday?"_

"You remember!" Sam accused. "And you will tell me what the hell that was for!"

"Sammy-boy. This is all a bit of fun. Perhaps you'll figure it out eventually. I'll give you a few days. Well, not really." He grinned and moved his hand, causing Dean to slam up towards the ceiling with a solid thump which knocked the air out of him.

"The fuck!" he yelled. "Put me down!"

"Okay." Clenching his hand, Dean fell down, catching his head on the sharp edge of a bedpost which hadn't been there previously. "Oops," he said placidly, looking curiously at the deep gash in the man's head.

 _The heat of the moment._ "Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Getting up of the bed Sam went for the closest gun, he was fuming.

"Whoa, Sam! What's wrong with you?" Dean asked, looking at him warily, and holding up his hands to try and pacify his brother, who just ignored him.

"Harry you good for nothing demon, get your ass here and explain yourself," he hissed, not caring about the wand this time either as it had worked previously and he was certain that the demon would hear.

This time there was no crack. Harry shimmered into existence silently, looking at the barrel of the gun in Sam's hand. "Really?" he said. "That won't hurt me."

"I know, but it might make me feel better."

"What am I missing?" Dean asked, still looking wary.

"Shut up, Dean!" Sam hissed. "What did you do that for?"

"He asked to be let down, not my fault that he hit his head."

Sam shot the pistol, twice, both bullets piercing through Harry's torso. The demon looked down at the wounds shaking his head. He hadn't even staggered on the impact. "Did that make you feel better?" he asked. "Maybe I should have faked some blood and dying as well?"

Sam shot another bullet, this time between Harry's eyes. This time he did stagger, but other than that he only rolled his eyes. "If that is how you want to play it I'll just go ahead and kill Dean right away."

"Hey!" Dean protested.

"Why are you doing this? I thought you were helping us."

"I was, kind of since stopping the time loop was beneficiary for both me and you, however I found the one responsible, was giving a compelling argument and decided that I wanted to play too."

"Play? You are calling this play! You've killed Dean twice now!"

"You hold me responsible for the second time? I said  _oops_."

"Yes I hold you responsible!" Sam roared.

"Someone needs to take a chill pill, or maybe I should give you a true reason to be upset, and really, this Tuesday needs to end before someone comes knocking wondering why a gun was fired. How about this?" Harry snapped his fingers and then he disappeared. Sam lunged after him, only catching air. His attention was drawn in a different direction however as his brother groaned.

"Dean, what's wrong?" he asked, looking at the man's pinched face and at the hand he clutched at his chest. As he watched Dean fell to his knees.

"I think I might be having a heart attack," he panted. As Sam watched dean's face consorted with pain and then something unbelievable happened. Dean's heart flew out of his chest and hit the far off wall.

"Oh, my god," Dean said faintly, before his eyes lost their spark.

 _The heat of the moment._ "Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Sam blinked. He groaned and turned back over in the bed, burying his face in the warm pillow.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean asked.

"Everything," he answered, though it was uncertain if his brother could hear it as it was muffled by the pillow. "Everything is wrong and I am not leaving this bed today."

"But Sam!" It was Harry who spoke; the demon had once again appeared without making a sound. "You have to get up or you'll miss the show! I have a good one planned for today."

"I'm not watching. I give up," Sam whined into his pillow. He had had enough. He couldn't watch Dean die a single time more.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Dean yelled.

"Do shut up, Dean. This isn't about you."

"Not about me? Sam is saying that he's seen me die!"

"And?"

"And something is clearly very wrong!"

The demon sighed. "I'm starting to understand a bit about how you are feeling, Sam," Harry said. "It is absolutely irritating to deal with someone who doesn't remember what's happened."

"Go away!"

"Don't be such a child. Come on! Look when I kill him, and tomorrow I'll let you have until nightfall before I kill him again."

Sam tentatively removed his head from the pillow, to look at the dark haired man who was grinning manically.

"Really?" he asked.

Harry hummed.

"Do it then."

"Atta boy!" He turned around. "Bye, Dean."

"Whoah, whoah, whoah!" the older Winchester said, holding up his hands. "You two can't be serious."

Harry let out a long suffering sigh. "Irritating," he repeated, looking over his shoulder at Sam, as if wanting sympathy. He found none. "Well then." He raised his hand and muttered; "Imperio."

Dean cringed a bit, and then he walked calmly around the bed and picked up a knife from under his pillow. He held the blade in an awkward way, and looked dup smiling at Sam. "This is bound to happen," he said cheerily. "You might as well get used to it."

The look on Sam's face was one of horror.

Next Dean started to sing. "If you're happy and you know it stab yourself," and as the changed lyrics of the children's song directed, Dean stabbed himself in the chest twice. "If you're happy and you know it stab yourself." Stab, stab. He was starting to gurgle up blood. "If you're happy and you know it, then your face will surely know it. If your happy and you know it stab yourself." Dean stabbed himself hard in the chest two more times, then whatever spell Harry had put on him was realized and Dean looked down at himself, seeing his blood soaked shirt. "Sam…" he gurgled and fell back.

Sam had watched it all horror-struck. He had seen it but he couldn't believe it. He looked over at the demon and saw that the man was showing his teeth in the mockery of a grin.

"A bit more original, wouldn't you say?" the demon mused.

"I hate you."

"Sure you do. I'll see you soon."

 _The heat of the moment._  "Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Sam flew up from his bed and hugged Dean hard. The other man stiffened in his embrace.

"Eh? What's this for?" he said, awkwardly patting Sam on the back.

"I'm glad you're alive, is all."

"Good morning, Sam!" said a cheerful voice.

Sam stiffened. Let go of Dean and turned around, only to see the being he hated the most in the universe casually laid back on the bed he had just vacated.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he snarled. "You said I'd have until tonight."

"Oh, Sammy. I'm a demon. I lied." It wasn't many moments until Dean was dead again.

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

As soon as the Tuesday began again, Harry flickered to where he knew Loki would be, ignoring Sam's angry yells that he could hear through the connection with his wand.

Loki was laughing delightedly, watching a large screen which showed the motel room the Winchester brothers were staying in. "You have some talent for this," he said.

"Glad you enjoyed it," Harry quipped back. "I think Sam deserves a short break. He has a lot to think about now."

"True," agreed Loki. "What do you want to do while we wait?"

"There are always idiots out there who could use a lesson, and even if they wont' remember, we will. It could be a perfect opportunity to see how much trouble we can stir up if we work together."

"I like how you think, kiddo. Where to first?"

"Have you been to England recently?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 27th March 2014
> 
> Someone said that they thought Harry was going soft. This chapter shows that he's not. I hope I didn't disturb anyone too much with the song. I'll warn you about that. Since I first did it in chapter 2 I've decided that it is a thing I'll do every now in this story. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I'll try to have a new one ready soon. Let me know what you thought!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Dean have to deal with the Deal they made with Harry

It had been a couple of weeks since the brothers at last came out of time loop. Sam had at last managed to understand who the culprit was, despite Harry pestering him at every turn, finding new innovative and heart wrenching ways to kill Dean. He had confronted the Trickster, who they thought that they had killed already, with a rather sharp object convincing him that it was in his best interest to put an end to his  _game._

When he had woken up with things being different, with it  _finally_  being Wednesday, he had thought about summing the demon to give him a piece of his mind, including a few gallons of holy water, some buckets of salt and a few well placed bullets, but he had thought better of it, deciding that he would be perfectly happy if he never had to see the green eyed bastard again.

With this in mind, it is obvious to say that when said demon popped into existence next to them as they were sitting on some benches by the edge of a lake a bottle of beer each in their hands, taking a short moment to relax after their latest job, Sam was not happy. One moment he had been perfectly content. He had a bottle of beer that could be called cold if you were generous, comfortable silence lay between him and Dean and he had an expense of water to gaze mindlessly at as the sun slowly set in the distance. And then there was a crack, and his field of vision was taken up by demon masquerading as man.

"Time to pay up," the demon said glibly, giving them an insincere smile.

"What?" Dean barked, somehow already having a gun in his hand, cocked and aimed.

"I like how you think, Dean-o, but I don't think this is the best spot to present my corpse on. It's too pretty." He frowned in an exaggerated display of disgust.

"What?" Dean repeated and Harry made a derisive sound with his tongue, clicking it and shaking his head.

"You want help with staging your death?" Sam asked to confirm his suspicions.

"Got it in one. I guess you made it clear once and for all who the brains in this operation is, not that I didn't already know, but a certain Tuesday I seem to recall made me doubt my own conclusion."

Sam growled low in the back of his throat, he did not appreciate being reminded of that  _episode_. He was far from over it, and if he thought he might get away with it he would have followed his brother example and had a gun pointing at the demon.

"So, I suppose you want to hear what I have planned, yes?"

"It's not like we have any choice."

"Too right about that, if you don't hold up your end of the deal I am forced to actually drag you downstairs, and as much as I enjoy the scenery; the flames are quite fetching and the smell simply makes every breath an indescribable pleasure, however I don't think you would say the same. Anyhow, a bit of enthusiasm would be appreciated. Just think about it. It's really a win-win situation for you. Neither of you have to visit the pit for the moment being and you get a shot at killing me and bragging about it. Doesn't it sound like splendid fun?"

"I only dislike one thing about it," Dean grumbled, "the fact that you won't actually be dead."

The demon shrugged. "Well, you can't have everything. So the people I want to trick are getting annoyingly close to catching me. I can't have that. I want all ties broken, and that means that they have to believe me dead, okay?"

"Whatever you say."

"So I figured that once they summon me next I'll let you know, and you'll summon me in turn, overruling their spell."

"How will we managed that?"

"I'll give you a stronger spell obviously, though it's a one time ting so don't go around getting your knickers in a twist thinking that you'll be able to pull that one again to rid yourself of me. We'll wait long enough for them to follow; I figure that they have reached the point where they'll be able to do that, and to be on the safe side I'll leave a trace they simply can't miss. Once they show up you use the colt. I play dead. They buy it and everyone goes home in time for dinner."

"That might be a problem," Sam said after sharing a slightly panicked look with his brother.

"Which part?" Harry asked darkly.

"The Colt part," Dean informed him unflappably.

"Why exactly is that a problem?"

"We don't have the Colt."

Harry smiled a smile that was sugary sweet and absolutely terrifying. His eyes had turned completely green. "What do you mean, you don't have the Colt? How in all the fiery pits of Hell do you go about loosing the Colt?" he roared his question and dark clouds were gathering en mass at the horizon blocking out the light of the setting sun.

"There was this girl," Dean tried to begin, still unflappable.

"You allowed a  _girl_  to get the better of you? I should open your head and see if there is a brain in there, because I think it's a medical miracle that you can do anything without one and before I publish anything in any journals I should get evidence." Harry raised his hand, and Dean rose with it, held by the throat. "Who. Was. She?"

"Bela Talbot," Sam answered, worried about Dean and keen to see his brother free of the Demon's grip. He cringed a little as he was suspected the full glare of the of the Demon.

"You will be getting it back," Harry said, clenching his hand into a fist. Dean's throat was squeezed and then he fell to the ground. "You will not rest until you have it again."

"What the fuck do you think we've been doing?" Dean screamed back, voice horse as he massaged his throat.

"Being idiots, that's what I'm accusing you of. Can you honestly say that the shoe doesn't fit?" As Dean silently fumed, getting back up on the bench, Harry gave them a cocky, unconcerned grin. "I thought so. I am beginning to think that I've chosen the wrong allies in this war. But fine. I'll win it myself the way I had planned on from the start. I don't  _really_ need you." Harry took a deep breath and calmed down visibly. The clouds receded and the tension that had crackled in the air like electricity abated at the same time as the green of his eyes receded until it was contained in the iris. "I'll see about getting the Colt back for you. We need that blasted thing to open the gate once Dean's gone to Hell, and since that is  _their_ plan I need to screw with it. I might be able to replicate the effects of the gun with a bit of effort, but the exact from of the thing? Close enough to make it work like a key… no. I didn't get the chance to study it long enough to be able to pull that one off."

He sighed and made a show of pulling a beer bottle out of thin air, snapping the capsule of and taking a long drag. "Change of plans I suppose. A replica of the Colt won't fool these folks I need to get rid of."

"Why don't you simply kill them?" Dean asked. "Not that I think you should kill anyone, unless they are demons. It's just that it doesn't seem like you to hesitate about killing someone."

"It's none of your business, Winchester. Shut the fuck up and listen to the plan."

* * *

_-Viridi Oculis Daemonium-_

* * *

 

Harry was vaguely enjoying himself. The Winchesters would be ready whenever he called them, he had made sure of it. All he had to do was wait for his former friends back in England to make their move. They had managed to summon him two times before he demanded Sam to pay for the deal he'd made for Dean's life. He thought that he would be able to get away again one more time, but after that Hermione would likely have figured out how to actually trap him and that could not be allowed. Who knew what else she might be able to figure out given enough time and initiative. It was a scary thought and not something he was willing to risk happening. If she got her wish his days wrecking havoc and generally not caring about inflicting suffering and pain would be over before he managed to rattle off Dumbledore's many names and titles. Or well, it might take a bit longer, but that was the gist of it.

Harry was staking out a town where there had been a lot of demon activity lately, getting ready to confront the ones responsible and give them the customary choice: join me or die, when he felt himself being summoned. He idly noted that he was right and they were getting better at it. He wouldn't have been able to ignore the summons even if he had wanted to, but he could stall long enough to sneak a mobile out of an innocent passer-by's pocket and send a text to Sam, whose current number he had made sure to know. He composed his message:  _Get ready for the show. It's time to pretend like you're actually a couple of competent hunters. Don't mess this up. You know what happens if you do._

There was no need to sign it. They would know it was from him, if they didn't, well then he might actually deserve to be saved by Hermione and Co.

The beautiful thing about the deal he had with Sam was that he had gotten insurance of it, which he had made sure that the Winchester brothers knew before he left them the other day. They were admittedly smart enough to be able to tell that it would be in their advantage if the people he wanted to think him dead got to him, and to make sure that they weren't tempted to double cross him he had transferred the deal to Crowley. If the Winchesters failed in helping him out, Sam would be dragged to hell with or without Harry being there to escort him. It wasn't as if he had given them Crowley's name, but they knew that the contract was held by another demon now.

The text was sent and Harry allowed the magic to pull at him, not bothering to give the mobile back, because why would he? The feeling of the spell dragging him across the world was seriously unpleasant and it made him glad that this would be the last time he would ever have to deal with wizard magic. He was more or less immune to it having been a wizard before becoming a demon, but the pure deal still didn't correspond with his demon nature and made him feel itchy and slightly nauseous.

He appeared silently, and as he landed on the ground he hissed as an onslaught of pure magic tried to invade his body, packing a hard punch. He should have known. They had brought him to Hogwarts. All the ambient magic around them was working on repelling him, or rather his demonic nature, and at the same time there was a ward, holding him and  _it_ trapped. It was not a normal demon trap, it was a bit different, he noted as he looked down on the pattern drawn in black paint on the stone floor.

He looked up and saw that there were more people gathered there then what there had been the last time they had summoned him. Four days before it had only been Ron and Hermione. Now Andromeda, had joined them. That wasn't very surprising. The two other additions however were. Neville Longbottom and Luna Scamander, formally Lovegood. At least Ginny wasn't there. Thank, eh – God might not be appropriate here, but whatever – for small mercies.

"Hello," he said blandly, smiling. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"Harry, we want to help you," Hermione said, point-blank.

"Help me? Nuh-uh. That would imply that you would be willing to pop around the world recruiting demons for me so that I can win a war and continue doing whatever I feel like, and that's not what you want. You want to reverse the clock, back, back, back. Tock-tick, tock-tick. But I do believe that such magic is far beyond you. You need to be someone with a lot of juice to pull that off and changing things is still tricky. I am never going to be the little boy you knew. I don't  _want_  to be him. He was weak, and pathetic and frankly miserable."

Hermione glared at him, the skin around her eyes more wrinkled then it had used to be when Harry was  _just Harry._ "We have to try," she said. "We owe it to the man you used to be, because he would say something different than you are know. And we owe it to ourselves, because it is the right thing to do and no one should have to pay the price you did."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Well, to each their own I suppose. I'm all for freedom or religion, but did you really have to drag the whole gang into this?"

"We wanted to help," Neville said, levelly. Harry had to admit that Neville had grown up well. He didn't care much about such things really, not now, but Neville might actually be an adequate opponent. It would take more than a simple hand wave to rid the world of him and that was a huge compliment.

"Hello, Harry," Luna said, as dreamy as ever.

"Luna," he said. "Do you also believe that you can cure me?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "You don't need to be cured. You are needed as you are."

"Huh." Well wasn't that nice to hear. "So why did you join up."

"There are a couple of people I would like to speak to and meeting you will give me that opportunity."

"Right." He might have found Luna strange before, and that hadn't exactly changed, but he had. He knew that there was much more to the world than the wizards were aware of, and Luna might just be better connected to it than most people. "That's nice. Oh." He let out a small gasp as he felt another spell tugging at him. It seems as if Sam and Dean actually were able to do something right. It hurt a bit, but he was torn away, and the pain was absolutely worth the expressions of incredulity that passed over the witches and wizards faces. Round one, won. Now for the next part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN 3rd July 2014
> 
> There we go. The plot is moving on. This has been planned for quite some time. Hopefully the next part will come out as I want it too. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


End file.
